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Outlines for lU Stvdj/ By Babbitt H. Clau 

Bnggeatloiu, gnestloQB, blograpMes, and blbllograpblea 
with outllneB, of bait a diuen pages or leaa eacb. of the 
more Imporcaat dUtb of twent;-(our CoatlnenUI dram- 
atlaU. While Intended to be used In coDDectlon with a 
readloc of tM plari tbemiielies, the book haa an Inde- 
pendBDt iDtereat. 12ma. |l.eO net. 

Praf. IPflUnn Lyan Phelpi, of Vale: ". . . One of the 
moat Daeful works on the contemporary drama. . . . 
Extremelj practiml, (nil of Taluable blnta and ■uue*- 


Lemattte'B Tfce Pardon, and LsTedao'a PMnce D'Aurea, 
tranalated by Barrett H. Clack, with Donnaj'a The 
Other Danger, tranalated by Charlotte Tenoey David, 
vltb an Introductlan to each author tty Barrett H. Clark 
and a Preface by Clayton Hamilton. One volame. 12mo. 
fl.50 net 

Bpriitpfleia Republican: " ' The Prince d'Aarec > Ih one 
of hla beat and most repreeentatlYe plays. It Is a fine 
character creation. , . . ' The Pardon ' must draw ad- 
miration for Its remarkable technical efflclency. . . . 
'The other Danger' Is a work at remarkable ccaftaman- 

(pQbllBbed by Hehbi Holt and Comfahi, New ToA.) 


Antborlied Tranalation. With an Intiodactlon tv Bab- 
BBTT H. Clabe, end Preface by EuoIInb Baiiux of th« 
French Academy. 
TKe PoiHti, a Play in 4 Acts : Fran<^ts de Curel. — 

The Serenade, a Bourgeois Study In 3 Acts ; Jean Jiilllen. 

— Prangotse' Lttck, a Comedy In 1 Act ; Oeorgea de Porto- 

Riche. — The Dupe, a Comedy in S Acts ; Qeorges Ancey. 

Net 11.00. 

(PaUlahed by Sibwut and Kipd, Ctadnnad) 








Antborof "The CoQtiiieDtal Drama of To-day," 
" CoDtemponuT French Drsmatista," etc. 





Published JbI;. ISIS 




ThU Book /( 

Gratefally Dedicated 





" llie British and American Drama of To-daj " 
aims to complete the series of suggestive etudj 
outlines of representative modern plays begun in 
" The Continental Drama of To-day." The same 
general form and method have been followed as 
were employed in the first volume, with the ex- 
ception of two or three slight modifications. 
First, owing either to the persistent refusal of 
certain dramatists to publish their plays, because 
of practical considerations or because they have 
no wish to make known their works through the 
medium of the printed page, dramatists like Eu- 
gene Walter, David Belasco, and George M. 
Cohan are but briefly referred to. In rarer in- 
stances, that of Sir James Barrie for example, the 
best and most typical plays are either not printed 
or, if such was the case, in Sditions de luxe, the 
price of which is prohibitive. 

The selection of plays has been a rather diffi- 
cult task. It has, of course, been impossible to 
consider all plays of importance or to include the 
best of each dramatist. Some authors have not 
even been touched upon. Israel Zangwill, Rudolf 
Besier, Charles Rann Kennedy, Alfred Sutro, and 



Somerset Maugham are not truly representative: 
the first three are rather exceptional than typical, 
the last two are typical, but their work is already 
represented by that of such men as Pinero, Jones, 
and Davies. It has been my aim only to include 
typical plays of typical dramatists, thereby aiFord- 
ing the student a general view of the dramatic 
movement in English-speaking countries since its 
inception something over a quarter of a century 

The recent dramatic movement in Ireland has 
very litHe to do with that in England, but my in- 
clusion of outlines on Irish plays under the gen- 
eral title of " British " may be excused as a mat- 
ter of expediency and geography, " British " 
being understood to embrace the British Isles. 

The mention of first American performances of 
English plays is, I hope, an aid, but I am fully 
aware of the deficiency in this branch of my work. 
There are no complete and authentic records con- 
taining the necessary information. 

It would be impossible to express here my 
thanks to all those who have helped me in the 
compilation of this volume. I may, however, men- 
tion that among the authors who have tendered 
personal aid are : Mr. Bernard Shaw, Mr. William 
Butler Yeats, Lady Gregory, Mr. St. John G. 
Ervine, Mr. Henry Arthur Jones, Mr. George 
Moore, Mr. Granville Barker, Mr. John Gals- 



worthy, and Mr. George Middleton. To Mr. T. C. 
Murray, Mr. Hubert Henry Davies, Miss Githa 
Sowerby, Miss Elizabeth Baker, Mr. Stephen Phil- 
lips, and Mr. J. O. Francis, I am indebted for 
courteous co-operation by letter. Mr. William 
Archer, Mr. J. T. Grein, and Mr. Clayton Hamil- 
ton have also given valuable advice. Mr. Mont- 
rose J. Moses and Mr. T. R. Edwards have been 
unsparing in their efforts to make the bibliog- 
raphies as complete and free from error as 


B. H. C. 





Abthdk PniERO 3 

Sweet Lavender 10 

,J*T:iie Second Mrs. Tanqueraf 14 

'Iris 19 

Mid-Channel 94 

/HEBa.T Abthus Joirn ...... 80 

The Sliver King 39 

, U41i<^ael and His Lost Angel 40 

Hie Liars 44 

OtCAR Woiw 4T 

SaIom£ 51 

•-■•l^dy Windermere's Fan M 

/"^ The Importance of Being Earnest . . . , IH 

BEBMAan Shaw 63 

VCandida 71 ■ 

Man and Superman 78 

Getting Married Bl 

The Sliewing-Dp of Blanco Posnet .... SB 

GftANTILU BaBXEB ....... M 

Tbe Voysey Inheritance .OS 

Stefhbit Phiu-ips 07 

Paolo and FrancesCB flO 

Si. Johm Hahkix ■ 107 

Tbe CassIIls Engagement 110 

C. Haddon Chahbbm 114 

The Tyranny of Tears IW 

HVBEBT HllTKT DaVIKS ...... 191 

The Mollusc 194 

qJohh Gauwobtht ....... 198 

^SltAie 131 

--'^Tie Pigeon ISfi 




The Tragadf of Nan lia 

Staklxt Houohton . 147 

Hindle Wakes 140 


Rutherford aad Son 15fi 

BuzASETs Bax» .ISO 

Chains . 169 

Babbib 165 

Pantaloon 168 

The Twelve-pound Look ..... 170 

John Oiwaui Fkaiicis 173 


" William Butub YiAia ...... 181 

The Countess Cathleen 186 

- John Millinoion Stitoe ...... 188 

Riders to the Sea 191 

The PUybof of the Western World . . . IH 

AvomiA Gbboobt ....... 198 

Hyacinth Halvey SOa 

The Rising of th* Moon 906 

T. C. Motbat ........ 308 

BirUiri^t SIO 

St. Johm G. Bbtihi .213 

Mixed Marriage 315 


Broition Howabo 319 

Young Mrs, Winthrop 333 

James A. Heskb 398 

Shore Acres 331 

Avauwrut Thoma* 93S 

The Witdiing Hour 237 



WnxiAH GnxmE ....... 943 

Held by Oie Enemy HS 

Cltde Fitch .348 

The Truth 253 

Wiu-uM VAtnjHif Motart ..■-.. iSg 

The Great Divide «60 

PacY Maceatx 863 

The Scarecrow SeS 

Edwasd Sbeldoit ....... 2M 

Romance 271 

Edoenb Walkb 9T6 

The Easiest Way 873 

Nons .281 

George Middleton 281 

Josejdiine Preston Peabody .... 983 

Ofive Tilford Dai^n 284 

Harry Benrimo and George C. Hacelton 284 

fc/Percy Mttckaye 284 

David Belasco 3SA 

Geoi^ Ade .286 

t^ George M. Cohan 387 

George H. Broadhurst 388 

William C. De Mtlle 388 

Joseph fUedUl Patterson ..... 989 

Langdoif MitcheU 2S9 

Oiarles Klein 269 

Radiel i^rothers 290 








Artbnr Wing Finero — since 1909, Sir Arthur 
Finero — was born in London in 1893. Like many 
anotber dramatist, he was forced to study lair. 
Finero's father, himself a lawyer, put his young son 
into his office, where the youth, much against his will, 
remained until the age of nineteen. In 1874, he was 
engaged by Mr. and Mrs. Wyndham, and acted small 
parts for a year in Edinburgh. After s year's acting 
the theater burned down, but he secured employment 
in Liverpool, and in 1876 came to London, acting at 
the Globe Theater. Not long after, he entered 
Irving's company and remained at the Lyceum for 
five years. Daring this time the young actor, not a 
very good one from all accounts, was writing plays, 
and in 1877 his first, " £800 a Year," was produced 
at the Globe. " Daisy's Escape" and " Bygones " 
were soon after performed at the Lyceum. It was 
probably the success of " Daisy's Escape," together 
with the assurance that he would never make a great 
actor, which led Finero to abandon the stage. His 
earlier efforts ore practically negligible; they are 
imitative, stiff, and conventional. " The Money- 
Spinner " is sometimes regarded as indicative of the 
dramatist's later skill, but not until the production 
of " The Squire " (1881) did some promise of better 
Uiings emerge. The following year, William Archer 



spoke of the anthor as " a thoughtful and consden- 
tiooa writer with artistic aims, if not yet with fall 
command of his artistic means." With " The Magis- 
trate," " The Schoolmistress," and " Dandy Dick " 
— all farces — Pinero attracted considerable attention, 
while "Sweet Lavender" (1888), with its sentiment 
and tears, brought him fame. Beginning with " The 
Profligate" (1889), Pinero opened a period of great 
fecundity: farces, dramas, and comedies succeeded 
one another for many years, and established stand- 
ards which were to obtain for over a decade. " The 
Second Mrs. Tanqneray" (189S) was rightly con- 
sidered the finest English play of the time. Of late. 
Sir Arthur has turned to the depiction of sections of 
middle-class life (in " The Thunderbolt " especially) ; 
this play, together with " Mid-Channel " (1909), has 
met with little success, thoagh the later manner of 
the dramatist is imdoobtedly more mature, more skil- 
ful and artistic than that even of " Mrs. Tanqueray " 
and " Iris." Still more recently have eome genre 
pictures like " The ' Mind-the- Paint ' Grirl " and 
" Preserving Mr. Panmure," but on the whole these 
are less satisfactory than such works as " The Gay 
Lord Quex." 

Pinero is a technician par excellence. His mastery 
of plot-construction, his ability to create and main- 
tain suspense, are indisputably admirable. His crea- 
tion of character, especially jn " The Benefit of the 
Doubt,". " Lady Bountiful," " The Gay Lord Quex," 
and " The Thonderbolt," is masterly and convincing. 
Yet on the whole Pinero's plays, by reason of their 



occasional falsity to life, Uieir too conventioiial stmc- 
tare, their dialogue, which is in places exceedingly 
stilted, fall short of true greatness. 


£200 A Year (1877). 
The Comrt (1878). 
Daisy's Escape (1879). 
Hbster's Mtstert (1880). 
Btoones (1880). 
The Money-Spinner (1880). 

Performed at Wallack's Theater, New York 1888. 
Impbudence (1881). 

Performed at the Boston Museum 1882. 
The Squire (1881). 

Performed at Daly's Theater, New York 1882. 
OiRi.e AND B0T8 (188S). 

Performed at Daly's Theater, New York 188S. 
The Rector (188S). 

Performed at the Boston Museum 188S. 
Lords and Cohmons (I88S). 

Performed at Daly's Theater, New York 1885. 
The Rocket (1888). 
Low Water (1884). 
In Chancery (1884). 

Performed at the Madison Square Theater, New 
York 1885. 
The Magistrate (1885). 

Performed at Daly's Theater, New York 1885. 
The Schoolmistress (1886). 

Performed at the Standard Theater, New York 



Thi Hobbt-Houe (1886). 

Performed at tie Knidcerbocker Theater, New 
York 1887. 
Dandt Dick (1887). 

Performed at Daly'a Theater, New York 1887. 
SwMT Lavindm (1888). 

Performed at Daly's Theater, New York 1888. 
The Weaker Sex (1868). 

Performed by the Kendals on their American tour, 
The Profligate (1889). 

Performed at Wallack's Theater, New York 1900. 
The Cabinet Minister (1890). 

Performed at Daly's Theater, New York 1893. 
Lady BotrHxirtrL (1891). 

Performed at the Lycenm Theater, New York 1891 
and at the Boston Museum. 
The Times (1891). 
The Ahazons (1898). 

Performed at the Lyceum Theater, New York 
The Second Mrs. Tanquerat (1898). 

Performed by the Eendala, Star Theater, New 
York 1898, and later by Mrs. Patrick Campbell. 
The Notorious Mrs. Ebbsmith (189^)- 

Performed fay Sir John Hare, Abbey's Theater, 
New York 1895. 
The BcNErrr or the Docbt (1895). 

Performed at the Lyceum Theater, New York 1896. 
The Princess and the BuTTEHri-r (1897)- 

Performed at the Lyceum Theater, New York 1897. 



I^KI^WNBT OF THE ' WZLLS ' (1898). 

Performed at the Lyceain Theater, New York 
The Gat Lord Qubz (1899). 
Performed hj Sir John Hare at the Criterion The- 
ater, New York 190O. 
laiB (1901). 
Performed at the Criterion Theater, New York 
Lbtty (1908). 

Performed at the Hudson Theater, New York I90*. 
A Wife Without a Smile (1904). 

Performed at the Empire Theater, New York 
His House in Order (1906). 

Performed at the Empire Theater, New York, 
The Thunderbolt (I90S). 

Performed at the New Theater, New York igiO, 
and hy the Drama Players on tour I9IS-8. 
Mid-Channel (1909). 

Performed, with Ethel Barrymore, at the Empire 
Theater, New York I91O. 
Preservinq Mr. Panudre (1911). 

Performed, with Gertrude Elliott, New York, and 
on tour 1911-2- 
The " Mind-the-Paint " GirL (1912). 

Performed, with Billie Burke, at the Lyceum 
Theater, New York, and on tour I91S-S. 
The Widow or Wasdale Head (191S). 
Playgoers (1913). 



(Three or four adaptations and a libretto are not 
inclnded in the above list.) 

Walter H. Baker of Boston publishes the follow- 
ing: " The Magistrate," " The Schoolmistress," " The 
Hobby-Horse," " Sweet Lavender," " The Weaker 
Sex," "The Profligate," "The Cabinet Minister," 
" Lady Bountiful," " The Times," " The Amazons," 
" The Second Mrs. Tanqueray," " The Notorious 
Mrs. Ebbsmith," " The Gay Lord Quex," " Iris," 
" Letty," " A Wife Without a Smile," " His House in 
Order," " The Thunderbolt," " Mid-Channel," and 
" Preserving Mr. Panmure." The Dramatic Publish- 
ing Company (Sergei) publishes: "The Benefit of 
the Doubt " and "Trelawney of the ' Wells." " Samuel 
French publishes: "The Money-Spinner," "The 
Squire," " The Rocket," " In Chancery," " Hester's 
Mystery," and " The Princess and the Butterfly." 
The rest of the early plays are unobtainable. " The 
' Mind-the- Paint ' Girl " is published by William 
Heinemann, London; "Playgoers" by Samuel 
French. " The Widow of Wasdale Head " is not yet 
pnblished. " The Second Mrs. Tanqueray " is in- 
claded in " Chief Contemporary Dramatists " 
(Houghton Mifflin). 

Rbpebekces: Hamilton Fyfe, "Arthur Wing 
Pinero " (Greening & Co., London) ; William Archer, 
" Real Conversations " (Heinemann, London), 
"About the Theater" (Unwin, London), "English 
Dramatists of To-day " (Sampson Low, London), 
"The Theatrical World" (Walter Scott, London), 
" Playmaking " (Small, Maynard) ; Mario Borsa, 



"The English Stage of To-day" (Lane); Augustin 
Filon, "The English Stage" (Dodd, Mead); Oscar 
Heermann, "Living Dramatists" (Brentano); E. E. 
Hale, Jr., "Dramatists of To-day" (Holt); George 
Moore, " Impressions and Opinions " (Brentano) ; 
Ashley Dnkes, " Modem Dramatists " (Dramatic 
Publishing Co.); P. P. Hove, " Dramatic Portraits " 
(Kennerley) ; Bernard Shav, " Dramatic Opinions 
and Essays" (Brentano); A. B. Walkley, "Drama 
and Life" (Brentano), "Playhouse Impressions" 
(Unwin, London) ; Frank Wadleigh Chandler, " As- 
pects of Modem Drama " (Macmlllan) ; H. M. Wal- 
brook, " Nights at the Play " (Ham-Smith, London) ; 
Cecil F. Armstrong, " From Shakespere to Shaw " 
(Mills and Boon, London) ; Clayton Hamilton, 
"Studies in Stagecraft" (Holt), "The Theory of 
the Theater " (Holt) ; Brander Matthews, " Inquiries 
and Opinions " (Seribner), " A Study of the Drama " 
(HoQghton MitBin) ; Arthur Pinero, " Robert Louis 
Stevenson, the Dramatist " (Colombia University) ; 
Ludwig Lewisohn, " The Modem Drama " 
(Huebscb). — Magaeinei: Mume;/, vol. z (p. 24>7) ; 
Book-bttger, vol. xvii (p. 301) ; Forum, vol. zxvi (p. 
119), Tol. xlvii (p. 494) ; Blackteood't, vol. clzvii (p. 
8S7); The Theatre, vol. xxziv (p. 8); Nation, vol. 
Izxziii (p. 811); North American Review, vol. 
clxzxvtii (p. 38); Critic, vol. xxxvii (p. 117); The- 
atre, vol. xxsrii (p. S46) ; Collier's, vol. xlviii (p. 84) ; 
Living Age, voL cclxxviii (p. 265). 



A domestic drama in three acts. First performed 
in 1888. 

" Sweet Lavender " is one of the most popular of 
Finero's playa. In Loudon it achieved the phenom- 
enal record, for those days, of a run of 688 nights, 
and on its revival not long after, of 737 nights. Since 
that time it has been seen in America, Canada, Russia, 
South Africa, Australia, Germany, and Italy. Its 
success is attributable to its genial, if mawkish, senti- 
ment, its optimism, and its kindly humor. In the 
light of the dramatist's later works, it appears old- 
fashioned and conventional in the extreme. 

1. Frobabl; no fitter play could be named to 
typify the comedy of sentiment than " Sweet 
Lavender." Pinero calls it a " domestic drama." 
It is not that, at least in the sense that Giacosa's 
" As the Leaves " or Ibsen's " John Gabriel Bork- 
man " are domestic dramas. Pinero's play touches 
merely the externals of life, deftly it is true, and 
with an occasional semblance of reality, but the 
dramatist's sympathy led him far astray both 
from human nature and from the truth that lies 
at the bottom of all things. This play should be 



studied first for its occasioDal touches of char- 
acterization) then for the skill with which the 
author has constructed his story. 

8. Pinero's chief contribution to the theater of 
his time will be doubtless found to consist of a 
series of plaja in which the stories are, as a whole, 
well thought out, interesting, ingenious, and 
economical in the technical sense of the term. He 
will be considered a consummate craftsman, but 
his comments on life and human character must 
take second place. He is not, however, negligible 
in this capacity: there are far too convincing 
proofs to the contrary. In the present play Dick 
Phenyl is a case in question. The part is an 
especially rich one for a good actor, and can be 
made even more sympathetic on the stage than 
it is in print. Although he shares with the other 
characters in the play the annoying mannerism 
of speaking much too often in figurative language, 
he is still an affable fellow. Bulger, too, and Mrs. 
GilfUIian, are good minor sketches. The latter is 
a faint approximation to the Lady Bracknell and 
Duchess of Berwick types of Oscar Wilde, Her 
speech (p. 48) in the first act is distinctly 
Wildesque: "Innocent-looking! Do you think I 
will have my plans — my plans and my brother's 
— frustrated by a girl witii ulterior motives and 
eyes Uke saucers? " 



8. The various works • on the techaic of the 
drtuna practically agree on the division of a play 
into five parts: exposition, development, climax, 
denouement, and catastrophe. Aristotle more 
succinctly said that a play must have a beginning, 
a middle, and an end. Most plays can be satisfac- 
torily so analyzed. " Sweet Lavender " presents 
an interesting clinical subject in its denouement. 
Trace, in the third act, the numerous threads in- 
troduced in the first and second: Wedderbum*s 
relations with Mrs. Rolt, Minnie's with Bream, 
Clement's with Lavender. Notice how the sup- 
posed failure of Wedderbum is smoothed over, 
how the coincidences are made to appear a little 
less improbable than they would be without the 
dramatic preparation. Mr. Delaney's " Cbtnc, 
I'll tell ye how I put the pieces of the puzzle to- 
gether " is a good text for this analysis. 

*. The end is " happy," that is, lovers are 
united, obstacles overcome, even at the expense of 
verisimilitude and the canons of ordinary moral- 
ity. Undoubtedly the English public of the day 

•Freytag, "The Technique of the Drama"; Elizabeth 
Woodbridge, "The Drama, Its Law and Technique"; W. 
T. Price, " The Analysis of Play Construction and Dra- 
matic Principle," and "The Technique of the Drama"; 
Brander Matthews, "A Study of the Drama"; Clayton 
Hamilton, "The Theory of the Theater"; William Archer, 
" Playmalcing "; Barrett H. Clark, " The Continent^ 
Drama of To-day"; George P. Bdier, "The Technique 
of the Drama" (Houston MiiBiii). 



demanded this and fev dramatistB dared face the 
logical outcome of a situation of the sort. Five 
years later, however, Pinero did carry out an 
unpleasant theme, fearlessly : the success of " The 
Second Mrs. Taaiqueraj " is but another proof of 
the steady intellectual advance of the British the- 
ater public. But a curious instance of the dram- 
atist's wavering between personal conviction and 
his fear of the public is to be found in " The 
Profligate" (1889). Read this play, comparing 
the two endings: that of the acted version, which 
ends in reconciliation, and the original, terminat- 
ing in suicide. 



A play in four wts. First perfonned in 1898. 

" The Second Mrs. Tanqueray " marked a decided 
step in advance of the drama of its day. To realise 
just how far in advance one must read some of ita 
predecessors. One critic spoke of it as epocb-making, 
and William Archer, always reserved and carefnl in 
his judgments, disagreed with him only so far as to 
state that no single play could make that pretension, 
but that this one was a work " which Dmnas might 
sign without a blush." The admirable construction, 
deep insight, and philosophical import of the theme, 
if not the characters, make of " The Second Mrs. 
Tauqueray " one of the £nest dramatic achievements 
of tbe past two decades. 

1. The exposition has often been admired. 
Each step is prepared with the utmost skill, aud 
the story of Aubrey's venture is unfolded before 
our eyes in a manner that is interesting and 
amusing. The first point to notice is that there 
is none of the obvious mannered conversation which 
is to be found in " Sweet Lavender." Pinero has 
left behind him those threadbare devices which 
introduced the history of his characters in a few 
lines: ". . .1, Edmund Bulger, widower, have 



loved you, Mrs. Rutii Bolt, widow, ever since 
you fust Bet foot in the Temple, fifteen years 
ago, a-bearing your two-year-old baby in your 
arms, ma'am." But, in " The Second Mrs. Tan- 
queray," by means of an apparently casual con- 
versation, taking place at a natural meeting of 
Aubrey's friends, his past, his intentions, the re- 
lationship among the men and their wives, — all 
is made unmistakably clear. 

If this exposition is in many ways admirable, 
and if ** The Second Mrs. Tanqueray " was an im- 
portant milestone technically, it is necessary to 
compare but one play of the past five years — Gals- 
worthy's " Justice " — to realize the advance made 
since 1893. Or, turning to Pinero's own later 
work: "The Thunderbolt," or "Mid-Channel." 
In " The Thunderbolt," the exposition is the more 
remarkable in that it not only seems casual, but 
inevitable. " Mid-Channel," on the other hand, is 
conventional in its opening, but the exposition is 
briefer and more to the point than in the play now 
under discussion. 

Compare the expositions in these three plays 
with that of " The Second Mrs. Tanqueray." 
Galsworthy's play has scarcely any, but is one re- 
quired? Could that of "The Second Mrs. Tan- 
queray " be summarily disposed of as is that of 
" Mid-Channel "? 

S. Finero has always kept well abreast of the 



times in theatrical wares. A severe but usually 
just critic • said of him : " No other hand . . , 
could supply BO efficiently the actual demand. 
When in the fullness of time and honors, Sir 
Arthur Pinero has need of an epitaph, it may well 
be this : He kept the theaters open." Certain it is 
that his early plays were influenced by Robertson 
and Gilbert, that " The Second Mrs. Tanqueraj " 
and the half-dozen plays of its sort that fol- 
lowed, were more or less influenced by Ibsen, and 
the critic above quoted adds that " perhaps it 
would not have been possible ... to have 
ac' 'eved the first act of ' The Thunderbolt ' if 
the third act of ' The Voysey Inheritance ' had 
not shown him the way.'* Nevertheless Pinero, like 
Augustus Thomas, has been quick to detect the 
trend of public thought and feeling, and no less 
alert to take advantage of it and write a " play 
of the hour," 

This timeliness is perhaps one of the most im- 
portant elements of successful plays. In 1893, 
Ibsen was a new name in ^England ; his pla js were 
beginning to be translated, discussed, produced. 
The Independent Theater, under J. T, Grein, had 
produced " Ghosts " in 1891, and invoked a storm 
of invective from the press; Bernard Shaw was 
hurling thunderbolts at the British public in the 
columns of the Saturday Review; Henry Arthar 

"P. P. Howe In "Dramatic Portrrits" (Kennerle^). 



Jones vas lecturing on the " Renascence of the 
Drama." It was the da; of the New Woman. 
And Pinero wrote a powerful play around a woman 
with a past ; five years previously, it is safe to say 
that the play would not have been successful. As 
it was, the time was ripe. 

There is nothing reprehensible in the practice: 
the theater must attempt to treat of people, cus- 
toms, and ideas of the day. In America it is un- 
deniable that timeliness is carried to an extreme. 
After some sensational trial we may expect a 
welter of plays dealing with the subject, just as 
after the production of Brieux's " Danu^red 
Goods," a number of plays, concerned more or less 
directly with the same theme, made their appear- 
ance. Let a play lilce " The Yellow Jacket " or 
" Alias Jimmy Valentine " enjoy a long run, and 
it is but a question of a few months before the mai^ 
ket is likely to be glutted with Chinese and crook 

8. In his lecture on " B. L. Stevenson: the Dram- 
atist," Pinero said: " What is dramatic talent P Is 
it not the power to project characters, and to 
cause them to tell an interesting story through the 
medium of dialogue? This is dramatic talent ; and 
dramatic talent, if I may so express it, is the raw 
material of theatrical talent. Dramatic, like 
poetic, talent is bom, not made ; if it is to achieve 
success on the stage, it must be developed into 



theatrical talest by hard study, and generally by 
iong practice. For theatrical talent consists in 
the power of making your characters not only tell 
a story by means of dialogue, but to tell it in such 
skilfully devised form and order as shall, within 
the limits of an ordinary theatrical representation, 
give rise to the greatest possible amount of that 
•peculiar kind of emotional effect the production of 
which is the one great function of the theater." 
Pinero is pre<nsely the dramatist who has devel- 
oped his dramatic into a thoroughly theatrical 
talent, by " hard study " and by " long practice." 
The transition may be best observed by comparing 
the " dramatic " " Sweet Lavender " with the 
" theatrical " *' Second Mrs. Tanqueray." 


A drama in fire acts. First performed in 1901. 

In " The Second Mrs, Tanqneray " Pinero is con- 
tent with placing before his audience a situation, and 
selecting a certain group of personages to work it out. 
In " Iris," although there is a situation, we are in- 
clined to beliere that the author wished to draw the 
picture of a woman, struggling with a situation, rather 
than a situation in which people struggle to extri- 
cate themselves. The earlier play was more of a 
story, the later, a painting. No such painting, it is 
true, as " Hedda Gabler," still it is as near to it 
as thb dramatist ever came. " Iris " is justly ac- 
claimed as one of the best technical feats of Pinero, 
for the story b simply and interestingly told, the 
character of the heroine carefully limned, the logical 
needs of the theme rigidly supplied. 

1. In the ca*e of " Iris," the exposition is of 
especial importance. Every step she takes in her 
downward course throughout the plaj is dependent 
upon (1) the conditions of the will, and (S) her 
character. These two points must be indelibly im- 
pressed upon the mind of the audience, or what 
follows wiU be unc<Hivincing. Take careful note 
of the innumerable references to Iris*3 tempera- 



ment ; the opening scene, between Miss Pinaent and 
KanC) is full of them, and when Iris herself enters 
(p. 8) she adds to our store of knowledge, Kane's 
". . . it is only fair to assume that your hus- 
band, knowing how greatly j/our happineu de~ 
pendt upon pertonal comfort, was actuated by a 
desire to safeguard you " (the italics are mine) is 
peculiarly significant. Iris even goes so far as to 
quote some of the terms of the wilL 

Does Pinero succeed in convincing you of the 
probability of the conditi<HisP Does he prepare a 
sufficiently solid foundation upon which to build 
the rest of the structure? Is the exposition of 
" Iris " more economical or less so than that of 
" The Second Mrs. Tanqueray "? In what way is 
it superior to that of " Sweet Lavender "P Com- 
pare it with the exposition of " Mid-Channel." 

S. Pinero has selected a character more subtle 
and more difficult to portray than Mrs. Tan- 
queray : Iris, a weak woman, taxes the dramatist's 
powers far more than Paula, whose very strength 
forms, as it were, a point of resistance against 
which to build situations. Positive wills, active 
agents, are the stuff of which drama is made, while 
passive and negative ones present numerous ob- 
stacles for the maker of plays. In " The Second 
Mrs. Tanqueray " the conflict of wills furnishes 
ready-made material, in " Iris " the lack of will, 
the drifting of the heroine, forces the dramatist 



at everj turn to inTeot sitnationB; it calla upon 
him to exert all hia ingenuity to keep the story 

Compare the two plays from this standpoint. 
Notice bow carefully Pinero has built up his situa- 
tions, and how each <Hie reveals some side of the 
character of Iris. 

S. The curtain falls nine times during this play. 
Nowadays it is the usual custom not to divide an 
act into scenes. What were Finero's reasons P 
Does this division in any way detract from the 
dramatic effectiveness or the unity of the play? 
Is it a confession of weakness? Could the drama- 
tist have managed as well without this frequent 
division ? Does the process add to the interest and 
suspense ? 

4. Pinero is a master of dramaturgic devices. 
One example will here suffice: shortly after the 
opening of the fourth act occurs the following 
stage-direction : 

(After tome keiilation, ke produce* a bunch of 
keyt and removet from it a latch-keg. Weighing the 
keg in hit hand meditatively, he xvalkt towards the 
lettee; then he turnt and totte* the keg upon the 
table. . . . She pick* up the keg and, riling, dropi 
it into a vate iehieh itandi upon the mantelpiece. 
The keg ttriket the bottom of the vaie nith a tharp 
tound. Having done this, the returnee her teat and 
lipt her tea.) 



The significaiice of the act is doubly impressed 
upon the audience ; first Maldonado's detaching the 
key and throwing it upon the table, and second 
Iris's dropping it, " with a sharp sound," into the 
vase. This is a stroke of dramaturgic genius: it 
advances the plot and reveals character in a 
most masterly fashion. Find other instances of 
this in " Iris." 

6. In the last act Finero has the courage which 
he lacked in " Sweet Lavender," and which some 
critics declare he lacked when he made Paula Tan- 
queray commit suicide in order to escape : the cour- 
age to show the logical consequences of his story. 
Trenwith's return is bitter, as it should be, Iris's 
confession is wrung from the depths of her being. 
There is at least an element of true tragedy in 
Iris's final effort to retain Trenwith, and In her 
query, " Would the home have been ready for 
me?" and his answer, "Yes." Then comes Mal- 
donado's denunciation of his mistress; she must 
leave. This, too, savors of tragedy, but after she 
leaves, and " Maldonado utiert a fierce cry and, 
inth one movement of his arm, fweept the china 
and bric-(tr-brac from the mantelpiece . . . over- 
turns the table with a savage kick; then, raiHng a 
chair high in the air, he dashes it to the floor and 
breaks it into splinters . . . " — is this in keeping 
with the spirit of the last scene? Of the whole 



6. Eugene Walter's " The Easiest Way " • i« in 
man; respects Bimilar to " Iris." Compare the 
two plays. 

* " Hie Easiest Way " has been printed onlf la a prirate 
edition, but it is often produced hy stock companiea. 



A play in four acts. First performed En 1909- 

Ab &n example of the highest technical skill, of 
Bound characterization, of a story well and interest- 
ingly unfolded, " Mid-Channel " muat assume a posi- 
tion in the front rank of this dramatist's many works. 
It is one of the truest specimens of domestic drams 
produced in England. 

1. Pinero once said* that after toiling at the 
superb exposition of " The Thunderbolt," he was 
determined not to go to the trouble of avoiding 
every possible incongruity and short-cut usually 
employed in conventional expositions, so that when 
he came to the opening of " Mid-Channel " he de- 
cided to convey the necessary information to his 
audience in a straightforward and more or less 
conventional manner. It was scarcely worth his 
while to conceal what must be obvious to nearly all 
his auditors: the effort to lay before them as 
quickly as possible that part of the character and 
past history of his personages which must be 
known before the play proper can begin. Conse- 

* To Mr. Cleyton Hamilton, who has eaurteously given 
me permission to 2>i^nt the above. 



quentijr, almost the same ground is cofrered in a 
dozen pages which it took over sixty to cover in 
the preceding play. 

If the exposition of " Mid-Channel " is rather 
conventional, compact, obvious, would the play 
have gained by the insertion of a long and possibly 
more skilful exposition? In other words, what is 
gained by the method here adopted? And what is 

S. The question. What is a tragedy? is consid- 
ered in " The Continental Drama of To-day " (p. 
153). Paul Kervieu says: "It is a play every 
part of which aims to create suspense, deep think- 
ing, and pity. It is accompanied no longer, as of 
old, with ma^ificent draperies; it is a thing of 
the day, logical, prosaic, no longer bloody . . . 
the ways of fate are no longer manifested, as with 
the Greeks, in dreams, visions, or presentiments. 
Nowadays we try to show how the struggle for ex- 
istence bears down inexorably upon those who are 
imprudent, too weak to defend themselves, those 
whose passions are stronger than their will power.** 
This of course is peculiarly applicable to the plays 
of M. Hervieu himself, who has written tragedies 
according to his own formula. The French drama- 
tist, as a rule, makes plays out of the human pas- 
sions; with him the passions are usually sufficient 
in themselves to explain failure and tragedy. 
With the Anglo-Saxon this is not enough : if pas- 



sions do work havoc with human lives, he ia un- 
willing to offer that as the sole reason for failure; 
he must add external circumstances. Finero in 
" Iris," however, accounts for the woman's ruin by 
her passion and her weakness, chiefl; the latter, but 
he is careful to furnish a convenient Maldonado, 
who is an external force. The French dramatist 
can make his character declare, " C'est plus fort 
que moi ! " and proceed with the happy assurance 
that he has sufficient motivation. Pinero is not an 
emotional dramatist, in the sense that Donnay and 
D'Annunzio are emotional; he must account for 
failure in some other way. In " Mid-Channel," 
Zoe gives us the reason for her failure and her 
husband's. She says: "It was doomed from the 
moment we agreed that we'd never be encumbered 
in our career with any — brats of children." 

Nearly all Pinero's " dramas " are tearless : they 
are dramatic, effective, terrible at times, and possi- 
bly horrible, but only in the rarest instances, 
lachrymose. Perhaps this is the result of hSs Eng- 
lish environment, and perhaps out of the fear that 
the British public dislikes any display of the 
deeper emotions, but Pinero prefers to be intellec- 
tual, in contradistinction to emotional, and wishes 
his plays to rest upon logic rather than upon pas- 
sion. But it must be remembered that his charac- 
ters are nearly all English. 

3. The " RaJsonneur '* is a stock figure in many 



of the plays of the nineteenth century, and in the 
plays of Dumas fils assumes an importance at 
times greatly out of keeping with the piece. In 
England, especially in the plays of Pinero and 
Henry Arthur Jones, he reappears as the middle- 
aged, kindly man-of-the-world, the adviser who in- 
variably sets matters straight and administers stiff 
doses of good advice to the characters of the play, 
as well as to the audience. He is at once a dra- 
matic expedient, a foil, and a relief-figure. In the 
hands of the actor for whom the part is written, 
he becomes a congenial link, as it were, between 
tiie audience and the characters. Some of the more 
striking instances are to be found in " The Liars," 
" Mrs. Dane's Defence," " The Case of Rebellious 
Susan," and " Dolly Reforming Herself," of 
Jones. In " Mid-Channel " it is Peter Mottram. 
Here, besides bringing about the temporary recon- 
ciliation between man and wife, he gives out the 
theme of the play (pp. 60-1), and offers a wel- 
come relief to the sordidness of the rest of the 

Is there a character corresponding to Peter in 
" The Second Mrs. Tanqueray "? In " Sweet 

4, The suicide in ** Mid-Channel " is as inevi- 
table as that of " Hedda Gabler " or " Justice." 
The dramatist has left no possible escape for the 
unfortunate woman. Trace the steps leading up 



to the catastrophe. Is there a point in the play 
where roatt«rg could have been satisfactorily ar- 
ranged? Could a logical change of heart have 
taken place in Theodore? Zoe being as she was, 
and Theodore remaining obdurate — in strict ac- 
cordance with the character as we know him — 
could a reconciliation be made plausible? 



Henry Arthur Jones vas bom at Grandborongfa, 
Bocks, in 1851. His early life was spent, and his 
primary education received in his native district. 
He went into business at Bradford and for some years 
was a commercial traveler. In 1878, at Exeter, he 
produced hia first play, " Only 'Round the Corner." 
During the next few yeara he wrote a nmnber of un- 
important little plays, of which " A Clerical Error " 
(1879) was produced in London. In 1882, he wrote, 
in collaboration with Henry Herman, his first great 
Bucrass, the famous melodrama, " The Silver King," 
which has held the stage for thirty-three years, and 
shows no signs of aging. " Saints and Sinners " 
(1884) called forth the unstinted praise of Matthew 
Arnold. From that day to this Jones has, through his 
essays, lectures, and many plays, carried on a work 
which is of incalculable benefit for tbe English stage. 

To Henry Arthur Jones, more than to any other 
single force, is due that Renascence and " uplift " 
— let the term be accepted in its best sense — of the 
contemporary English drama. Jones carries on the 
tradition of Congreve and Sheridan in high comedy. 
His best work, with the exccjition of " Michael and 
His Lost Angel," consists of comedjgs of. manners. 
" The Liars," " Tbe Case of Rebellions Susan," and 
" Dolly Reforming Herself," satires on contemporary 



society, are amoDg the finest character plays of the 
day. Jones's work is characterized by close obserra- 
tion of the foibles of the npper classes and the aris' 
tocracy of England; a keen sense of humor — as op* 
posed to the cleverness and wit of Wilde and Pinero 
— vhich brings him much closer to the English Res- 
toration dramatists than any other of his day ; and a 
keen sense of dramatic construction. Jones has writ- 
ten many comedies, but his melodramas — especially 
" The Silver King " and " The Middleman " — and his 
tragic play, " Michael and His Lost Angel " — must 
be taken into account in any estimate of the drama- 
tist's total ouipnt. 

' Only 'Round the Corner (1878). 
Hearts of Oak (1879)- 
Harmont (1879)- 
Elopembnt (1879). 
A Clerical Error (1879)- 

Performed at the Star Theater, New York 1886. 
An Old Master (1881). 
His Wife (1881). 
Home Again (1881). 
-A Bed of Eosbh (1881). 

. The Silver Einq (in colIaboraUoD with Henry Her- 
man, 1882). 
Performed at Wallaek's Theater, New York 1888. 
^ CHATTtRTON (with Henry Herman, 1884). 

Performed, with Wilson Barrett, at the Grand 
Opera House^ New York 1886. 



> SaINTB AND SiNNBRS (1884). 

Performed at the Madison Square Theater, New 
York 1885. 
, HooDUAN Blind (in collaboration with Wilson Bar- 
rett, 1885). 
Performed at Wallack's Theater, New York 
The Lord Harby (with Wilson Barrett, 1886). 
The Nobl£ Vagabond (1886). 
Habd Hit (1887). 
. Heabt of Hearts (1887). 

Performed at the Madison Square Theater, New 
York 1888. 
Wealth (1889). 

Pertormed at Palmer's Theater, New York 1891. 
The Middleman (1889). 

Performed, with E. S. Willard, at Palmer's The- 
ater, New York 1890, and on tonr. 
JUDAH (1890). 

Performed, with E. S. Willard, at Palmer's The- 
ater, New York 1891. 
SwEKT Will (ISpO). 

Performed at the Standard Theater, New York 
The Deacon (1890). 
Performed at Hoyt's Madison Square Theat«r. 
New York 1892. 
The Dancinq Girl (1891). 
Performed, with E. H. Sothem, at the Lyceum 
Theater, New York 1891. 
The Crusaders (1891). 



The Bauble Shop (189S). 

Performed, with John Drew, at the Empire Tbe- 
Bter, New York 1895. 
The Teupter (1893). 
The Mauiuxraderb (1894). 

Performed at the Empire Theater, New York 1895. 
The Case of Rebellious Suban (1894). 

Performed at the Lycenm Theater, New York 1895. 
The Triumph of the Philistines (1895). 
Michael and His Lobt Angel (1896). 
-\, Performed at the Empire Theater, New York 1896, 
with Henry Miller and Viola Allen. 
The Rooue'h Combdt (1896). 

Performed, with E. S. Willard, at Wallack's The- 
ater, New York 1897. 
The Physician (1897). 

Performed, with E. S. Willard, at Wallack's The- 
ater, New York 1897. 
The Liarb (1897). 
Performed, with John Drew, at the Empire The- 
ater, New York 1898. 
The MANajuTREsoF Jane (1898). 
^ Performed at Daly's Theater, New York 1900. 
Carnac Sahib (1899). 
The Lackey's Carnival (1900). 
Mrs. Dane's Defence (1900). 

Performed, with Margaret Anglin, at the Empire 
Theater, New York 1901. 

The Princess's Nose (1902). 

^ Chance the Idol (1902). 



Whitewashing Julia (1903). 
JoaBPH Entanolgd (1904)- 

Performed at the Columbia Theater, San Francisco 
The Chetalbkb (1904) 
Tax Heroic Stubbs (igo6). 
The Htpocbiteb (1906). 
^ Performed at the Hndson Theater, New York 1906. 
, The Goal (1907). 

Performed at the Princesa Theater, New York 
The Etanoblist (1907). 

Performed at the Knickerbocker Theater, New 
York 1907. 
Dolly Reformino Hebhelf (1908). 

Performed at the Fine Arts Theater, Chicago 1913. 
We Can't Be as Bad as All That (1910). 
/^ Performed at Nazimova's Sgtfa Street Theater, New 
York 1910. 
The Oqbb (1911). 
LimiA OiLMORE (1912). 

Performed at the Lyceum Theater, New York 1912. 
The Ditine Gift (1912). 
Mart Gobs Fibbt (1918). 
"^ Performed, with Marie Tempest, at the Comedy, 
New York 1914- 
The Lie (1914). 
""" Performed, with Margaret Illington, at the Hudson 
Theater, New York 1914. 
Two or three one-act trifles, together with Jones's 
and Herman's adaptation of " A Doll's House " — 



entitled " Breaking a Butterfly " — are omitted from 
the above list. 

In French's " International Copyrighted Edition " 
the following plays are published: "Harmony," 
" Elopement," " Hearts of Oak," " A Clerical Error," 
"An Old Master," "A Bed of Rosea," "The 
Deacon," and " Sweet Will." In French'? special 
series of Jones's plays are: " Joseph Entangled," 
" The Silver King," " The Dancing Girl," " The Mid- 
dleman," " The Hypocrites," " Mrs. Dane's De- 
fence," " The Case of Rebellious Susan," " The 
Liars," " The Masqneraders," " Dolly Reforming 
Herself," " The Manoeuvres of Jane," " Judah," 
" The Physician," " The Rogue's Comedy," " The 
Triumph of the Philistines," " The Crusaders," 
" Whitewashing Julia," and " The Tempter." Mac- 
millans publish: " Carnac Sahib," "Michael and His 
Lost Angel," and " Saints and Sinners." " The Di- 
vine Gift " and " The Lie " are pnUished by Doran, 
and " Mary Goes First," by Doubleday, Page (Drama 
League Series). In "The Theater of Ideas" 
(Doran) are: "The Goal," "Her Tongue," and 
" Grace Mary." The other plays are either not pub- 
lished, or ebe are only privately printed. " Michael 
and His Lost Angel " is included in " Chief Con- 
temporary Dramatists " (Houghton Mifflin). 

Refebences: William Archer, "The Theatrical 
World " (Walter Scott, London), " About the The- 
ater " (Unwin, London), "English Dramatists of 
To-day " (Sampson Low, London), " Playmaking " 
(SmaU, Maynard) ; Mario Borsa, " The EngOsb 



Stage of To-day" (Lane); Augustin Filon, "The 
English Stage " (Dodd, Mead) ; George Moore, " Im- 
pressions and Opinions " (Brent&no) ; Bernard Shaw, 
" Dramatic Opinions and Essays " (Brentono) ; P. P. 
Howe, " Dramatic Portraits " (Kennerley) ; A. B. 
Wolkley, " Drama and Life " (Brentano) ; J. T. 
Grein, "Dramatic Criticism" (Evelyn Naah, Lon- 
don) ; Frank Wadleigh Chandler, " Aspects of Mod- 
ern Drama" (Macmillan); Clayton Hamilton^ "The 
Theory of the Theater " and " Studies in Stagecraft " 
(Holt) ; Lndwig Lewisohn, " The Modem Drama " 
(Hnebsch); Brander Matthews, "A Study of the 
Drama" (Houghton Mifflin); introductions to Mac- 
miUan (early) editions of " Michael and His Lost 
Angel," " The Crusaders," " Saints and Sinners," and 
"Judah." By Henry Arthur Jones: "The Renas- 
cence of the English Drama" (Macmillon), "The 
Fonndations of a National Drama" (Doran); intro- 
ductions to "The Divine Gift," "The Case of Re- 
bellious Susan," and " The Theater of Ideas." — 
Magaeine*: Norik American, vol. clzzsvi (p. 205); 
Reader, vol. ix (p. 105); BlacktDOod't, vol. zciv (p. 



A drama in five acts b; Henry Arthur Jones and 
Henry Herman. First performed in 1882. i 

" The Silver King " was declared by WilUam ' 
Archer to be " quite the best of modern English melo- I 
dramas." Mr. Archer's words have been borne out) ' 
if popnlarity for a period well over a quarter-century 
be a criterion. Many thousands of performances all 
over the Continent, in America, South Africa, and 
Australia, have rendered the play celebrated. This j 
universal appeal rests in the simplicity, sincerity, in- I 
terest in the plot, and to a certain extent in the sym- 
pathetic characters, and above all, in the authors' 1 
grasp of the story, and their skill in conducting it 
from first to last withont hesitation. | 

1. Melodrama as distinguished, from tra^d; is 
that form of drama in which the story is of more 
importance than the personages who are in it : the 
audience will remember the plot, the incidents, the 
big scenes in " The Silver King " longer than it 
will the characteristics of Denver. In " Hamlet," 
on the other hand, it will discuss and ponder over 
Hamlet's character long after it has forgotten 
the story and incidents of the Prince of D^imark. 



' The writer of melodrama invents a frame for 

his characters, the writer of tragedy will conceive 

: a human being and allow a framework to form 

i itself about him, imposing only such situations as 

; will reveal the inmost soul of that character, and 

'■ hold the interest of an audience at the same time. 

I Briefly, the hero in tragedy, because he is as he is, 

brings down the tragedy upon himself, the hero 

, in melodrama merely moves hither and thither 

until at last the author wills that he fall into the 

heroine's Etrms at the final curtain, and the villain 

be foiled, by fair means or foul. 

Distinguish the elements of melodrama in " The 
Silver King." In exactly what way does the 
author dictate the actions of the various person- 
ages P Are there any elements of true tragedy in 
the playP Of serious drama— ijrama in the sense 
that Pinero's " Iris " is dramaP 

&. It will be (^served that " The Silver King " 
is divided into seventeen scenes. Why is thisP 
Does it tend to rffstroy tlie unity of the acts which 
are thus divided, or of the entire play? Or is it a 
confession of weakness on the part of the drama- 
tists ? 

3. The essential difference between melodrama 
and tragedy — or a serious play of any kind — is 
exemplified in the last scene of the first act. Since 
in the former the dramatist directs the course of 
events, and the hero follows in their wake, diance 



plays an important part; but in the latter, in order 
that the audience may believe and eventually see 
that the hero's weakness or, it may be, strength, 
combined often with external circumstances, causes 
his downfall, nothing must be left to chance. His 
downfall must seem inevitable. In the third scene 
of the first act of " The Silver Kin^ " Denver hap- 
pens to arrive at Ware's home, at the precise 
moment when it is being robbed ; Ware enters, the 
burglar shoots him, after applying the chloroform 
pad to Denver, across whose prostrate form he has 
stumbled, and the burglars leave. As Denver 
awakes to consciousness, he speaks the following 
st^oquy : 

. . . Where's my hat? (Geti up, taket candle, 
ttaggert, Mteadiet himtelf, comet round table, tea 
Ware.) What's that?. It's Geoffrey Ware! What's 
he doing here? Get up, will you? {Kneelt dovm.) 
Ah, what's this? Blood! He's shot! My God; I've 
murdered him! No! No! Let me think. What 
happened? Ah yes, I remember now — I came in 
at the door, he sprang at me and then we struggled. 
(^Looking at revolver) My revolver. — One barrel 
fired — I've murdered him. No, he's not dead. Geof- 
frey Ware! Is he dead? {Eagerly feeling Ware'* 
pnlte) No, it doesn't beat. {Teart domn Ware'* 
teaittcoai and thirt, putt hit ear over Ware's heart.) 
No, no, quite still, qtrite still. He's dead! Dead! 
Dead! Oh, I've killed him — I've killed him. . . . 



Although there is a certain poetic justice in the 
fact that Denver, the druokard, believeB himself to 
he the murderer of Ware, the various coincidences 
leading up to this scene, and the fact that Denver's 
bagedj hiuges on a mistake, is too improbable 
for a serious play — i.e., for any play not a melo- 
drama or a farce. Tragedy demands that there 
be no accident, no coincidence, to hasten the end of 
the hero: each event in his downward path must 
be brought about either through his own fault, or 
through the implacable laws of fate. Hamlet is 
the victim of his own weakness, Romeo and Juliet 
are the victims of fate and circumstances over 
which they have no control, Denver is the victim 
of circumstances controlled by the dramatist. 

4. Melodrama is a flexible form, yet in its 
numerous manifestations there are constantly re- 
curring character-types ; among these are the vil- 
lain, hero, and heroine. The villain may be 
thought of as the force at variance with the hero 
and the heroine. Before the play reaches the end, 
the villain must be overpowered through the agency 
of the hero, who must be united with the heroine. 

In " The Silver King," who is the hero? The 
heroine? The villain? What is the struggle be- 
tween the opposing forces? At what precise point 
does the decisive struggle take place? How does 
the hero overcome the villain? Does the heroine 
help to precipitate the catastrophe? 



A play in five acta. Pint peTfatmed in 1896. 

" Michael and His Lost Angel " is Jones's mort 
ambitions play. Into it he put his deepest convic- - 
tions, and sncceeded in producing a tragic drama of 
passion which may well hold its own with the finest 
plays of the time. Bernard Shaw, most catholic of 
critics, said of the play: " It seems ... to me to 
be a genuinely sincere and moving play, feelingly 
imagined, written with knowledge as to tbe man and 
insight as to the woman by an author equipped not 
only with the experience of an adept playwright, and 
s kindly and hnmorons observer's sense of contempo- 
rary manners, bnt with that knowledge of spiritual 
history in which Mr. Jones's nearest competitors seem 
so stupendously deficient." The play was not a suc- 
cess, owing to difficolties in the original casting, it 
was said, but the truth of the matter is expressed in 
Shaw's words: " The melancholy truth of tbe matter 
is that the English stage got a good play, and was 
completely and ignominiously beaten by it." 

1. Measuring "Michael and His Lost Angel" 
according to the definitions of tragedy set forth 
by Hervieu, and those considered in connection 
with " The Silver King " and Pinero'a " Iris,** 
into what category would this play go? 



S. In his " Dramatic Opinions and Essays " 
(Vol. I, pp. 309-10) Bernard Shaw remarks: "As 
to the first two acts, I ask nothing better; but at 
the beginning of the third comes the parting of 
our wajs; and I can point out the exact place 
where the roads fork. In the first act, Michael, a 
clergyman, compels a girl who has committed what 
he believes to be a deadly sin, to confess it publicly 
in church. In the second act he commits that sin 
himself. At the beginning of the third act he 
meets the lady who has been his accomplice; and 
the following words pass between them: — 

Audrie. — Yon'rc sorry? 
Michael. — No. And yon? 
Audrie. — No. 

Now, after this, what does the clergyman do? 
Without giving another thought to the all-signifi- 
cant fact that he is not sorry — that at the very 
point where, if his code and creed were valid, his 
conscience would be aching with remorse, he is not 
only impenitent, but positively glad, he proceeds to 
act as if he really were penitent, and not only puts 
on a hair shirt, but actually makes a confession to 
his congregation in the false character of a con- 
trite sinner, and goes out from among them with 
bowed head to exile and disgrace, only waiting in 
the neighborhood until the church is empty to 
steal back and privily contradict his pious impos- 



ture bj picking up and hiding a flower which the 
woman has thrown on the steps of the altar." 

Shaw condemns Michael for not being true to 
his own conviction: be should either have been 
sorry, and told Audrie so — in which case there 
would have been no play — or else not have con- 
fessed himself wrong. In the latter case, the play 
would have been tragic in every sense of the word, 
for society (external circumstances) would have 
prevented the couple from living as they thought 
it right to live, but as it is, we have nothing but 
a weakling, who is at most a pathetic and not a 
tragic figure. 

How far is Shaw's criticism valid? Does Jones 
intend Michael to be contrite? Is he really " not 
sorry," as he declares to Audrie? Is the play a 
true tragedy? 

S. Jones has repeatedly asserted that literature 
and the drama should be inseparable ; a play must 
stand the test of time, and to do this, it must 
stand the test of print. In his essay on " Litera- 
ture and the Modem Drama " * he says : " If your 
drama b truly alive, it will necessarily be litera- 
ture." He continues : ■*' If you have faithfully and 
searchingly studied your fellow-citizens; if you 
have selected from amongst them those characters 
that are interesting in themselves, and that also 
possess an enduring human interest; if in study- 
*In "The Pomidations of a National Drama" (Doron). 



ing these interesting personalities, you have se- 
Terelj selected from the tnftss of their sayings and 
doings and impulses, those words and deeds and 
tendencies which mark theoi at once as individuals 
and types ; if you have then recast and re-imagined 
all the materials; if you have cunningly shaped 
them into a story of progressive and cumulative 
action ; if you have done all this, though you may 
not have used a single word but what is spoken 
in ordinary American intercourse to-day, I will 
venture to say that you have written a piece of 
live American literature — that is, you have writ- 
ten something that will not only be interesting on 
the boards of the theater, but can be read with 
pleasure in your library, can be discussed, argued 
about, tasted, and digested as literature." 

Literature, then, in the drama, is not altogether 
a matter of style, it concerns itself with arrange- 
ment, selection, appropriateness to the characters 
in the mouths of which words are put, and plot. A 
play may be written with no pretense to style, and 
yet be good literature. Certain it is that in the 
plays of Stephen Phillips the language is finer, 
the style nearer to perfection than is that of 
Sardou, yet the Frenchman was a far greater mas- 
ter of dramatic literature than the English poet. 

In what respects is " Michael and His Lost 
Angel" literature? Can its style in itself take 
rank as literature? 



A comedy in fonr acts. First performed in 1897- 

" The Liars " is as fine an example of the comedy 
of manners in England as any written during the past 
quarter of a century. The skilful plot-construction, 
clever dialogue, and genial good-natured satire com- 
bine to make it a masterpiece. Behind all the amuse- 
ment is the eternal "lesson": that society in order 
to exist must adhere to a set of regnlations, and that 
any infringement of its laws invariably brings social 
ruin. Needless to say, the idea is not forced upon 
us Mt is allowed, as it should be, to evolve out of the 

1, In Francis's "Change" (see p. 176), the 
dramatist eliminates in the third act all the char- 
acters except the mother and Lizzie Ann, and con- 
centrates his attention on these two. He does this 
in order to make of his climax, which occurs at 
the end of the third act, a unified and striking 
scene. More than this, he must select from among 
his characters those to whom the sympathy of the 
audience is moat naturally attracted. An audi- 
ence must always have its attention directed, as 
the play approaches its climax, to one person or 
one small group of persons ; or else to one situo- 



tion or crisis: when the plot becomes teaae there 
must be no scattering of attention. In Henry 
Arthur Jones's " Mrs. Dane's Defence " there is 
a similar narrowing down of the interest, until the 
climax begins, in the cross-examination scene, 
where Mrs. Dane and her interlocutor occupy, fig- 
uratively as well as actually, the center of the 
stage. If the action were to be diagrammed it 
would be represented by a pyramid, the apex of 
which is the climax. 

In " The Liars," the dramatist appears to adopt 
the reverse method : instead of eliminating charac- 
ters, he adds to the number from moment to 
moment. From the very beginning of the third 
act, he begins building up for the climax. First, 
the letter from George, which Lady Jessica reads 
to Lady Rosamund; then Freddie's entrance, add- 
ing a further complication ; then Sir Christopher's, 
which seems to promise a way out of the disagree- 
able predicament; then Mrs. Crispen and Mrs. 
Coke, and finally George. Most inopportune of 
all, comes Archibald Coke, who precipitates the 
final downfall, and not long after, Gilbert, followed 
by Falkner. 

Study in detail the methods by which the cumu- 
lative effect is made. If, in " Change " and " Mrs. 
Dane's Defence," the rise in tension and the elim- 
ination of characters can be represented by a 
pyramid, would not that of " The Liars " be 



represented by an inverted pyramid? What is the 
unity of the act? 

2. The play is virtually over at the fall of the 
curtain on the third act. What function does the 
last fulfil? To what means does the dramatist re- 
sort to make the last act interesting? Is it really 
superfluous P 



Bom in Dublin in 1854, of cultured and vell-to-do 
Irish parents, Oscar Wilde spent his early youth in 
his native country. For three years he attended Trin- 
ity College in Dublin, but completed his university 
education at Oxford, where be devoted himself to 
classical studies. After traveling in Italy and Greece 
he came to London. His Grst book was a volume of 
poems (1881); these were followed by his first play, 
" Vera, or the Nihilists," which was performed in the 
United States in 1888. " The Duchess of Padua," a 
verse tragedy, was performed in the United States in 
1891. Meantime Wilde had been in Paris, there mak- 
ing the acquaintance of many prominent literary men 
of the period. In 1884 he married, and was enabled 
thereby, as his wife was a woman of mean?, to de- 
vote his time to lecturing, writing poetry, essays, 
stories, and plays. The important plays — " Lady 
Windermere's Fan," " A Woman of No Importance," 
" An Ideal Husband," and " The Importance of Be- 
ing Earnest" — were produced between 1892 and 
1895. In 1895, Wilde was sentenced to two years' 
imprisonment with hard labor as the result of a 
trial instigated by him against the Marquess of 
Qneensbcrry. (For details of the trial, which are be- 
yond the scope of the present work, see Arthur Ran- 
some's " Oscar Wilde," original edition, and Oscar 



Wilde's " De Profundis.") On lesving prison he 
adopted the name of Sebastian Melmoth and went to 
France; there, and at Naples, where he later went 
and wrote " The Ballad of Reading Gaol," he 
dragged out the few remaining years of his life. He 
died at Paris in 1000. 

In "De Profundis" Wilde said: "I took the 
drama, the most objective form known to art, and 
made of it as personal a mode of expression as the 
lyrie or the sonnet; at the same time I widened its 
range and enriched its characterization." He refers 
to his " social " plajs, and speaks rather of what he 
intended to do than of actual accomplishment. In 
his poetic plays and fragments — " The Duchess of 
Padua," " A Florentine Tragedy," and " Salorn^ " — 
be wrote fairly effective pieces and some good psendo- 
Elizabethan poetry; in his other plays, with the ex- 
ception of " Vera," comedies which for their clever- 
ness, their ingenuity, and above all, their wit, are un- 
surpassed in modern times. 

Wilde, more than any other man of his day, recog- 
nized the " necessity of style." Although his plays 
occasionally contain specimens of very artificial and 
stilted language, still a farce like " The Importance of 
Being Earnest " is a triumph of literary yet lifelike 
literature. Wilde was assuredly a man of the theater: 
he could invent plots and develop an intrigue with 
extraordinary skill. Henry Arthur Jones, Sir James 
Barrie, Bernard Shaw, and Granville Barker owe 
mnch to their brilliant predecessor. 



ViBA, OK THE Nihilists (1888). 

Performed at the Union Square Theater, New YoA 
Thk Ddchkhb of Padda (1891). 

Performed at the Broadway Theater, New York 
Lady Winderhibk's Fan (1892). 

Performed at the Columbia Theater, Boston 1898. 
A WouAN OF No Importance (1893). 

Performed at Miner's Fifth Avenue Theater, New 
York 1898. 
An Ideal Husband (1895). 

Performed at the Lyceum Theater, New York 1899. 
The Ihpohtakce of Being Earnest (1899). 

Performed at the Empire Theater, New York 1899. 
Salom£ (1896). 

Performed at the Berkeley Lyceum, New York 

" La Sainte Courtisane " and " A Florentine Trag* 
edy " are poetic fragments. 

Methuen of London publishes the " Chief Works " 
of Wilde in twelve volumes. In the United States, 
John W. Lace publishes, in four volumes, the " Plays 
of Oscar Wilde." Walter H. Baker publishes paper 
editions of the " social " plays. In " The Plays of 
Oscar Wilde " (Cosmopolitan Edition) published by 
H. S. Nichols, all the plays, except the two fragments 
above mentioned, are gathered together in a Edngle 
volume. " Lady Windermere's Fan " is included in 



" Chief Contemporary Dramatists " (Houghton 

Referzmceb: Leonard Cresswell Ingleby, "Oscar 
Wilde " (Werner Laurie, London) ; Arthur Ran- 
some, " Oscar Wilde " (Kennerley) ; Lord Alfred 
Douglas, " Oscar Wilde and Myself " (Lane) ; Anna, 
Comtesse de Bremont, " Oscar Wilde and Hla 
Mother " (Everett, London) ; W. W. Kcnilworth, " A 
Stndy of Oscar Wilde " (Fenno) ; Holbrook Jackson, 
" The Eighteen-ntneties " (Kennerley) ; Archibald 
Henderson, " European Dramatists " (Stewart and 
Kidd) ; William Archer, " Playmaking " (Small, 
Maynard); "The Theatrical World" (Scott, Lon- 
don) ; Bernard Shaw, " Dramatic Opinions and Es- 
says " (Brentano) ; Mario Borsa, " The English 
Stage of To-day" (Lane); AuguaUn Filon, "The 
English Stage " (Chapman and Hall, London) ; C. E. 
Montague, "Dramatic Values" (Macmillan); F, W. 
Chandler, " Aspects of Modem Drama " (Macmil- 
lan) ; Ludwig Lewisohn, " The Modem Drama " 
(Huebsch). — Magasinet: Current Literature, vol. 
Miii (p. 156), vol. xli (p. 518), vol. xltv (p. 287); 
Wetimiiuter, vol, elxvi (p. SOI); Arena, vol. xxiviii 
(p. 134); Dial, vol, xlviii (p. 261); Bookman, vol. 
Hxiv (p. 389) ; Nation, vol. xcviii (pp. 366 and 598), 
vol. zdz (p. 874). 



A play in one act. Written in 1892, prohibited in 
Paris the same year. First produced in that city 
in 1S96. Originally written in French, translated 
by Lord Alfred Douglas. 

" Salome," like most of Wilde's plays, is a rich 
and ornate picture: it was written for the purpose of 
displaying its neat and well-balanced plot, for the 
sheer pleasure to be derived from its esthetic appeal.* 
The stage-directions offer the reader something of 
what is put into the production. The gorgeous and 
figured style of the dialogue is the work of a poet who 
plays with words. In the original the style is some- 
thing of a patch-work: there are many speeches 
reminiscent of Maeterlinck's early manner, and oc- 
casional snatches of Baudelaire and Flaubert. The 
play is, however, remarkable for its well-handled 
plot: it Is thoroughly dramatic and holds the atten- 
tion of the audience to the end.f 

* The poetic drama in England le discussed in connec- 
tion with Stephen Phillips's " Paolo and Prancesca " (p. 97), 
as "Salom^" is scarcely a typical example, and is written 
in a foreign tongue. 

f'ln 1901, within a year of the author's death, it was 
produced in Berlin; from that moment It has held the 
Emttpean stage. It has mn for a longer consecutive 
period in Germany than any play by any Englishman, 
not excluding Shakespeare. Its popularly has extended 



1. As the dramatist in a one-act play cannot 
afford much space for lengthj and careful exposi- 
tion, be often sums it up vithin a few pages or 
even a few lines. He is forced to concern himself 
with the play proper. The exposition of " Sa- 
lome " is not, in the usual form : it is largely the 
revelation of facts at second-hand, and is done in 
a more or less summary fashion. The first eight 
or ten pages are devoted to conversation 'carried 
on by the Nubian, the Cappadocifui, Herodias's 
Page, First and Second Soldiers, and the Young 
Syrian. This is once interrupted by the Voice of 
Jokanaan. Nowadays we should perhaps regard 
this sort of exposition as " talky " ; it would " re- 
tard the action," yet in a poetic play a certain 
leeway may be allowed for the decorative side of 
the piece, the inherent beauty of the words, and 
we are willing to have the atmosphere created, and 
wait for the entrance of Salom^ herself before the 
story is appreciably advanced. 

Compare the opening scene of " Sa1om4 " with 
the corresponding scenes of Galsworthy's 
" Strife " and Augustus Thomas's " Arizona." 

2. As in most tragedies and in many plays of 
various kinds, there is a continual insistence of 
what may be termed the " fate motif." The 

to all conntriu where ft Is not prohibitKl. It is per- 
formed throughout Europe, Asia, and America. It Is 
plaj'ed even in Yiddish.'" Qnotatlon from Robert Ross, 
In Rsnsome's "Oscar Wilde." 



Witches' scenes in " Macbeth " are the dasaic ex- 
ample. Hov does Wilde make use of it in this 

3. Contract is a basic principle of all art. In 
Richard Strauss's music for the opera of ** Sa- 
lome," he makes use musicallj of the interruptioni 
b; Jokanaan, in order to afford a etrikisg con- 
trast to the scene. In the play itself the first in- 
terruption — " After me will come another greater 
than I," etc. — is a good example of Wilde's use 
of contrast. The First SoMier and the Cappa- 
docian have been conversing in short sentences: 

Firtt Soldier. — The Jews worship a God they 
cannot see. 

The Cappadocian. — I cannot understand that. 

Firti Soldier. — Indeed they believe only in those 
Uiings they cannot see. 

The Cappadocian. — That seems absolutely ridicu- 
lous to me. 

Then comes the Voice of Jokanaan. — Again: 
Salom^ speaks of the moon: 

Salome. — How good it is to see the moon! She 
resembles a small coin. One might say she was a 
little flower oF silver. She is cold and chaste, the 
moon — I am sure she is a virgin. She has a virtu's 
beauty — yes, idle is a virgin. She has never soiled 
herself. She has never given herself to men, as the 
other goddesses have. 



The Foice of Jokanaan. — He is come, the Lord ! 
He is come, the Son of Man. The centaurs have hid 
themselves, and the sirens have quitted the streams 
and lie under the leaves in the forests. 

Notice other examples of dramatic contrast such 
as the two above quoted. Is contrast sought by 
any other method? 

4. Although " Salom^ " was not written pri- 
marily to be played, it is one of the most effective 
of its author's dramatic works. Its success can- 
not be attributed to the accessory qualities — ^the 
literary style in particular — but rather to its in- 
herent theatrical appeal. Few other one-act plays 
move so swiftly, so surely, so rhythmically, 
straight up to a climax so well-devised and thrill- 
ing as this. 

Simplicity is the keynote to the action: from 
Salome's first inquiries about Jokanaan — " Is he 
an old man, the prophet? " there is a steady pro- 
cession of climaxes, or crises, each leading to an- 
other and a greater. Salome's curiosity, then her 
strange abnormal love for the uncouth prophet, 
Herod's entrance, the momentary pause in the 
tension, then the upward flight of the action, 
Herod's demand for Salom^ to dance, then an- 
other moment of suspense, and the rapid climax — 
here, in brief, are the qualities, here the unity, the 
effectiveness of " Salom6." 



A comedy in fonr acU. First performed in ISgS. 

As the form of the play, its wit, its decoration, its 
pattern " were of more importance to Wilde than the 
theme or the characters," we may expect that thb 
" play aboat a good woman " is more a clever excuse 
for an effectiTe piece of drama and a good deal of 
verbal pyrotechnics than a sympathetic study of the 
protagonist The play has stood the test of time, 
because it is a good story — in spite of its flagrant 
shortcomings — so that there is no need of discussing 
its sincerify of purpose. 

1. The first act — in the earlier version — ends 
with the following speech of Lord Windermere: 

(Calling after her.) Margaret! Margaret! (J 
pauae) My God! What shall I do? I dare not 
tell her who this woman really is. The shame would 
kill her. {Sinkt doton into a chair and btiriet hit face 
in hit handt.) 

In later editions the speech is altered to: 

My God! What shaD I do? I dare not tell 
her that this woman is her mother! 

Why was the change made? How does it affect 



the attitude of tlie audience in the succeeding acta? 
ft. It is perhaps unjust to criticise this play as 
a serious comment on life, one in which we must 
believe and feel for the characters, yet some of 
the more important weak points must not be left 
unnoticed. Some pages from the end of the 
first act, Lady Windermere speaks the following 

How horrible! I understand now what Lord 
Darlington meant by the imaginary instance of the 
conple not two years married. Oh! It can't be true 
— she spoke of enormous sums of money paid to this 
woman. I know where Arthur '.tfeps his bank book 
— in one of the drawers of that desk. I might £nd 
ont by that. I trill find ont. (^Open* drawer.) No, 
it is some hideous mistake. {Ritet and goet C) 
Some silly scandal! He loves nte! He loves me.' 
But why sliould I not look? I am his wife, I have 
a right to look! {Rttumi to bureau, takei out book 
and examines H, page by page, tmilet and gtvet a 
ligh of relief.) I knew it, there is not a word of 
truth in this stupid story, (Putt book back in drawer. 
At the doet to, ttartt and taket out another book.) 
A second book — ^private — locked! {Triet to open it, 
but failt. Sees paper knife on bureau, and tptth it 
ctttt cover from book. Begins to ttart at the ftrit 
page.) Mrs. Erlynne — 600 — Mrs. Erlynne — 700 
— Mrs. Erlynne — 100. Oh! it is true! it is true! 
How horrible! (Throtot book on floor.) 

{Enter Lord Windermere, C.) 



The dramatic effect is too easily achieved, it is 
too obvious, aad in cODsequence a little diacrimioa- 
tion will prevent our believing what we see. The 
improbability of the situation is too apparent. 
Further, Lord Windermere's giving Mrs. Erlynne 
the money, his poor excuse that " the shame would 
lull her *' (Lady Windermere) are insufficient 
motives. Hod Wilde really cared to make bis 
audience believe, he would not have made as the 
basis of the rest of the play so insecure a founda- 
tion. But he was concerned chiefly with externals ; 
he knew that he was telling an interesting, if im- 
probable story, he had, numerous choice epigrams 
and some effective dramatic material for the en- 
suing acts — and besides, had Lord Windermere 
told Lady Windermere the truth, there would have 
been no play \ t . . 

The fundamental mistake just pointed out in 
the first act weakens the ensuing action, and 
Lord Windermere's secret results in his wife's at- 
tempted elopement with Lord Darlington. There 
is no need multiplying instances o( the like, for as 
the plot proceeds, the wealE motivation becomes 
more and more apparent. By the time the " big " 
scene comes, with its heavy tirade, we doidit the 
sincerity of the characters. The " Believe what 
you choose about me " speech in the third act fails 
to ring true. 

3. Wilde's skill in preparing for an effective 



scene ha« been already observed in " Salom4." In 
" The Importance of Being Earnest " there is an 
even better example. What instances are there in 
the present playP 



A " Tririal Comedy for Serious People "; a farce in 
three acta. First performed in 1895- 

A farce is a comic play in which the audience is 
asked to accept impossible or highly improbable situa- 
tions for the time being. It differs radically from 
comedy, in th«t the audience must believe, for if the 
. personages are to appear real — and they must, as 
character is of prime importance in comedy — they 
must move about in real situations, or at least sach 
as we can give credence to. In a farce, then, what 
the characters do is of more importance than what 
they are. " The Importance of Being Earnest " is a 
farce, one of the best ever written, cleverly con- 
structed and delightfully amusing. There is only the 
slightest attempt at the sketching of character, while 
most of the pemnages are at best but caricatures; the 
author's skill is brought to bear chiefly upon the situa- 
tions and the lines. It so happens that this farce 
contains more clever lines, pnns, epigrams, and deft 
repartees than any other of modern times, but these 
are after all accessory. A farce may be written with- 
out these additions — it might well be pure pantomime. 
Wilde has thrown them in for full meaaore. 

1. The first act should be carefully studied after 
a reading of the entire play- Notice especially 



how the very comic scene in the second act — where 
Jack enters " in the deepest mounting " — is pre- 
pared for and led up to. In order that this scene 
shall be a surprise, and that the appearance of 
Jack, without a spoken word, shall evoke a series 
of recognitions in the mind of the audience, and 
a correlation of hitherto-unknown facts, the prep- 
aration in the first act must be skilfully done. 
The rerj casualness and apparent trivialitj of the 
dialogue tend to throw us off our guard. This is 
in a manner comparable with the art of the magi- 
cian who, while calling attention to a dexterous 
feat of legerdemain with his right hand, prepares 
the next trick with his left. So, in the first act, 
we are scarcely aware of the importance of 
Algernon's disquisition on " Bunburying," or of 
Algernon's writing the address which Jack gives to 
Gwendolyn " on his shirt-cuff," so nonchalantly 
are these points introduced. Yet, when the scene 
in question — in Act II — comes, we are perfectly 
acquainted with the necessary facts. 

S. That farce can be independent of clever 
dialogue is, as we hare said, true, but when this 
can be added and made to fit into the action and 
further it, so much the better for farce. Oscar 
Wilde could not resist the temptation to be witty, 
though this practice was often detrimental to the 
rest of the work. In " Lady Windermere's Fan," 
indeed, the wit covers occasional bungling in the 



plot. But in "The Importance of Being 
Earnest," Wilde found a form which he could 
make " personal," and plot and wit go hand in 
band. Take, for instance, the following dialogue 
from the first act: 

Algernon. — Well, my dear fellow, you need not 
eat as it you were going to eat it all. Yon behave as 
it you were married to her already. Yon are not 
married to her already, and I don't think yon ever 
will be. 

Jack. — Why on earth do yon say that? 

Algernon. — Well, in the first place, girls never 
marry the men they flirt with. Girls don't thinlE it 

j4Mck. — Ob, that is nonsense. 

Algernon. — It isn't. It is a great truth. ' It ac- 
counts for the extraordinary nnmber of bachelors that 
one sees all over the place. In the second place, I 
don't give my consent. 

The epigram is not forced, as many epigrams are 
forced in the first act of " A Woman of No Impor- 
tance"; it is in keeping with the characters and 
situation. At the same time it serves the ends of 
drama, by advancing the story and affording srane 
insight into the character of the personages. 

Find other examples of this in the present play. 

S. The third act of a farce — and it is extremely 
dangerous to extend a farce to more than three 



acU — 13 unusually difficult. The effort to maintain 
interest for two acts often leaves a dramatist ex- 
hausted by the time he comes to conclude. 

How well has Wilde succeeded in accumulatiBg 
his interest in the third act of this play? Has 
he relied upon the wit of the lines, or has he care- 
fully brought together the threads of action and 
given sufBcient raUon d'etre to his summing upP 
Compare the third act of " The Importance of 
Being Earnest " with the fourth of " Lady Win- 
dermere's Fan." Which is the hetter, and why? 



George Bemanl Sbaw was born In Dublin in 1856. 
From the son's own account, the father must have 
been a rather shiftless and anitn aginative man, bnt 
his mother — who was to exert great influence over the 
boy — was a woman of culture. The family, when 
George Bernard was a youth, found itself iu reduced 
circumstances, and the son v&s forced to enter a 
land-agent's office in his native city. He was always 
interested in music (this taste he received from his 
mother) and science, and in the confinement of office 
life he gave early signs of his restless and revolution- 
ary character. In 1876 he went to London. For 
nine years he did literary hack-work, living in a 
shabby room on nest to nothing. His efforts were 
long unrecognized, and he had to accept a small pit- 
tauce for some years from his mother. Four navels — 
" The Irrational Knot," " Love Among the Artists," 
" The Unsocial Socialist," and " Cashel Byron's Pro- 
fession " — were written between 1880 and 1883, bnt 
they brought their author neither fame nor prosperity. 
He was not, however, wasting his time, for his asso- 
ciation with small clubs and societiea^atheistical and 
socialistic in tendency — brought him into contact with 
a number of influential men. Among these was Sid- 
ney Webb, the economist. Waxing enthusiastic over 
the ideas of Henry George, he began to take active 
interest in the problems of poverty, and joined the 



Land Reform Ubioii. For some years Shaw attended 
lectures, studied Socialism, Trade Unionism, and 
kindred subjects, and made friends with Edward Car- 
penter and WiUiam Morris. He made the acquaint- 
ance, too, of William Archer, in 188S, and was 
induced to enter the field of newspaper criticism. 
Before long, be fulfilled the functions, in turn, of 
musical, art, and dramatic critic. As dramatic critic 
of the Saturday Review, he esercised widespread in- 
fluence, as champion of Ibsen and the new ideas of 
dramatic writing, and enemy of the out-worn conven- 
tions so long accepted by the theater-world. Mean- 
time he had been busy with propaganda work in con- 
nection with the Fabian Society, and delivered nomer- 
ons lectures on economic and political questions. In 
1892 his first playi "Widowers' House*," was pro- 
duced at J. T. Grein's then recently-established Inde- 
pendent Theater. Then followed " The Philanderer " 
(1893), and " Mrs. Warren's Profession," which 
was censored and not produced until 1909. By this 
time Shaw had come to be considered a new force in 
the theater, but success, in the usual sense of the term, 
did not come to him for many years. Such organiza- 
tions as the Stage Society and the Court Theater — 
where Granville Barker produced play after play of 
Shaw — did most to bring him to the knowledge of 
the public at large, a knowledge acquired in Geroiany 
tome years before. Shaw has been engaged in many 
branches of work, bnt his activit,' has not been Unn- 
ited to books and plays. He is at the same time an 
eloqoent speaker, economist, and great-spirited citiEcn. 



In hia first Tolnme of the " Plays Flessant and 
Unpleasant," Bernard Sbav said that, having had his 
cyesi^t tested by a specialist, he was informed that 
he iras " an exceptional and highly fortunate being, 
optically, normal sight conferring the power of seeing 
things accurately, and being enjoyed by only about 
ten per cent, of the population, the remaining ninety 
per cent, being abnormal." Coming as he did, when 
Pinero and Jones were endeavoring to produce new 
and original works, albeit in tbe old forms, Shaw with 
his normal eyesight began looking aboot him and dis- 
covered that there were new things to say in new 
ways, and he said them in a manner which at first 
startled the " ninety per cent." In other words, his 
early attempts — like " Widowers' Honses " and 
" Mrs. Warren's Profession " — were advance-guard 
works, aimed primarily at those dramatists who still 
clung to the drawing-room type of play and the ideas 
that more often than not accompanied it. In the 
preface to the volume above referred to he says: 
"Finally, a word as to why! have labeled the three 
plays in this first volume Unpleasant The reason 
is pretty obvions: their dramatic power is used to 
force the spectator to face unpleasant facts. No 
donbt all plays which deal sincerely with humanity 
must wotind the monstrous conceit which it is the 
business of romance to flatter." All of Shaw's early 
playir and most of his later ones were protests against 
the conventions, tfatfftifelessness, the timidity of the 
play of the day. This he did as a dramatist; as a 
ctmunentator on life, it is more difficult to determine 
jost what he has done. 



Shaw considers himself a Socialist and intellectual 
leader who chooses to employ the stage as the best 
means of promulgating his ideas. Until recently, at 
least, he has proclaimed himself not a dramatist bnt 
a preacher. Yet, in the final analysis, Shaw will be 
remembered as a remarkably clerer and gifted drama- 
tiat with an unasual endowment of wit and consider- 
able ability to tell a good story. His best plays — 
" Candida," " Arms and the Man," " Man and Super- 
man " — are occasionally marred as dramas by too 
much irrelevant " tallc." Yet that talk is so amasing, 
so interesting, so witty, and so pregnant with ideas, 
that it is difficult to criticise the work as a whole. 
Shaw has at least proved that a good play can contain 
a vast amount of conversation and very little action. 

Shaw, in company with Jones and Pinero and 
Wilde, is one of the founders of modern English 
drama. As dramatic critic, lecturer, and dramatist, 
his influence has been probably the deepest and most 
widespread of any of his contemporaries. 

WrDOWERs' HoxTSBS (1892). 
The Philanderer (1893). 

Performed at the Little Theater, Chicago 1914- 
Mrs. Warren's Profession (1893).* 

Performed at the Hyperion Theater, New Haven 
19OS ; Garrick Theater, New York, same year. 
Akms ANn THE Man (1894), 

Performed, with Richard Mansfield, Herald Square 
Theater, New York 1894. 

•Produced in 1903. 



Candida (1897). 

Performed At the Princess Theater, New York 
The Man of Debtiny (1897). 

Performed at the American Academy, Neir York 
Yoc NBVBia Can Tell (1900). 

Performed at the Garrick Theater, New York 1905. 
The Devil's Dibciple (1899). 

Performed at Bleeker Hall, Albany 1897. 
Cj:8ar and Cleopatra (1899). 

Performed at the New Amsterdam Theater, New 
York 1906. 
Captain Bbabsbocnd's Convebbion (1900). 

Performed, with Ellen Terry, Empire Theater, 
New York 1907. 
Man and Supkruan (1905). 

Performed, with Robert Lorraine, Hudson Theater, 
New York 1905. 
John Bull's Otheb Island (190*). 

Performed at the Garrick Theater, New York 1905. 
How He Lied to Her Husband (1903). 
Performed at the Berkeley Lyceum, New York 
Majok Barbara (1905). 
The Doctor's Dilbuua (1906). 

Performed at Wallack's Theater, New York 1915. 
Getting Married (1908)r- 
The Shewino-up op Blanco Pobnet (1909). 
Perfonned by the Irish Players in several cities of 
tbe United States 1911-3- 



MlSALLIANCZ (1910). 

Tux Dark Lady of the Sonnets (1910). 
„^anny'b First Play (1911). 

Performed at Collier's Comedy Theater, New York 
Androcles and the Lion (1913)- 

Performed at Wallack's Theater, New York 1915. 
Pyomawon (19I8). 

Performed, with Mrs. Patrick Campbell, Park The- 
ater, New York 1914. 
Great Catherine (1914). 

(This list follows the order of publication. Owing 
to difficulties witb the censorship and of obtaining 
suitable companies for production, some of the plays 
were performed in England some time after they had 
appeared in the United States.) 

Besides the above-mentioned plays a few topical 
sketches and occasional pieces shonld be mentioned : 
"Passion, Poison, and Petrifaction" (1905); "The 
Interlude at the Playhouse " (1907); "The Admi- 
rable Bashville" (1903); "Press Cuttings" (1909); 
" Overruled " (1918) ; and " The Music Cure " 

The first three and the next four plays are published 
in " Plays Pleasant and Unpleasant " (Brentano) ; 
the next three in " Three Plays for Puritans " (Bren- 
tano); "Man and Superman" separately (Bren- 
tano); the next three under their own titles 
(Brentano) ; likewise with the next two gronps of 
three; "Androcles and the Lion," "Pygmalion," and 
" Great Catherine " appeared in Everyhody't Maga- 



nine (September and November, 191*, and February, 
1915). "The Admirable Bashville " and "Press 
Catttngs" are published separately (Brentano); 
"Overmled" in The Engliih Review (May, I9IS). 
The others, with the exception of " The Mosic Cure," 
appeared respectively in magazines and newspapers 
which to-day are unobtainable. 

Brentano's pnblish in separate paper editions most 
of the plays above listed. 

References: G. E. Chesterton, "George Bernard 
Shaw" (Lane); Archibald Henderson, "George 
Bernard Shaw, His Life and Works " (Stewart and 
Kidd) ; Holbrook Jackson, " Bernard Shaw, A Stndy 
and an Appreciation" (Richards); Henry L. 
Mencken, " George Bernard Sbaw, His Plays " 
(Luce); Joseph McCabe, "George Bernard Shaw" 
(Kennerley); Renee M. Deacon, "Bernard Shaw as 
Artist-Philosopher" (Lane); William Archer, "The 
Theatrical World " (Walter Scott, London), " Play- 
making " (Small, Maynard) ; Mario Bor«a, " The 
English Stage of To-day " (Lane) ; Auguatin FQon, 
" The English Stage " (Dodd, Mead) ; Ashley Dukes, 
"Modem Dramatists" (Sergei); E. E. Hale, Jr., 
"Dramatists of To-day" (Holt); Archibald Hen- 
derson, " European Dramatists " (Stewart and Kidd), 
"The Changing Drama" (Holt); P. P. Howe, 
" Dramatic Portraits " (Kennerley) ; James Hnneker, 
"Iconoclasts" (Scribner) ; J. M, Kennedy, "Eng- 
lish Literature, 1880-1905 " (Stephen Swift, Lon- 
don); C. E. Montague, "Dramatic Values" (Mac- 
millan) ; D. E. Oliver, " The English Stage " (Ousley, 



London) ; John Jay Chapman, " Memories and Mile- 
stones " (Moffat, Yard) ; Gilbert Norwood, " Enrip- 
ides and Mr. Bernard Shaw " (St Catherine Press, 
London) ; H. M. Walbrook, " Nights at the Play " 
(Ham-Smith, London) ; A. B. Walkley, " Drama and 
Life" (Brentano), "Frames of Mind" (Richards, 
London) ; John Palmer, " The Future of the Theater " 
(Bell, London), " The Censor and the Theaters " 
(Kennerley), " George Bernard Shaw: Harlequin or 
Patriot? " (Century Co.) ; W. L. George, " Dramatic 
Actualities " (Sidgwick and Jackson, London) ; Cecil 
F. Armstrong, "From Shakespeare to Shaw" (Mills 
and Boon, London); Frank Wadleigh Chandler, 
"Aspects of Modern Drama" (Macmillan); Ludwig 
LewiBohn, "The Modem Drama" (Huebsch). — 
Magasinet: Independent, vol. lix (p. IO60); Fort- 
nightly, vol. Izxxv (p. 516); North American, vol. 
cIiM (p. 746) ; Book-man, vol. xxi (p. 428), vol. Dtvii 
(p. 474); Poet-Lore, Sept-Oct, 1909; Arena. voL 
xxxii (p. 489); Atlantic, vol. ciii (p. 227); Current 
Literature, vol. zxxix (p. 551); Coamopolitan. vol. xl 
(p. SS9) ; Contemporary, vol. cxiii (p. 422) ; Academy, 
vol. Ix (p. 192) ; Edinburgh Review, vol. cci (p. 498) ; 
Hibbert Journal, vol. viii (p. 818) ; Outlook, vol. Ixxii 
(p. 701); Drama, No. 1«. 


A mystery in three acts. First performed in IS97. 

" Candida " is a abaft aimed against current con- 
ccptiona of what is moral, right, and fitting. It has 
always been accepted as a commonplace that the 
father is the respected head of the family, yet Cramp- 
ton in " You Never Can Tell " shows that all fathers 
are not and sfaould not be such; "Man and Super- 
man " attempts to prove that in the eternal question 
of sex-mating, it is the woman and not the man who 
gives chase and brings down her prey. In " Candida " 
Shaw shatters ideals about the " sanctity of the 
family," and shows a weak man and a strong man 
— each at first appearing to be the reverse — with a 
woman between them. The woman finally clings to 
the weaker, as he needs her most; not, Shaw implies, 
because she happens to be his wife. 

" Candida " is among its author's beat plays. As 
an acting piece it is certainly his best Not radically 
different from the " well-made play " it takes the old 
conventions and turns them into new channels, and 
promulgates ideas which are for the most part strictly 
germane to the story, sets forth characters with vivid- 
ness, in a highly entertaining way. Shaw had not 
as yet freed himself from those elements of " Sar- 
doodledom " against which he bad so vigorously pro- 
tested in his early days as a critic. As will be seen. 



" Man and Snpennai) " was a great advance stride 
toward technical freedom, while " Getting Married " 
and " Misalliance " at length bridged the gap. 

1. The plays of the past fifty years differ 
strikingly from those of earlier times as regards 
the matter of stage-^directions. The Greeks, the 
Latins, and the Elizabethans wrote primarily for 
the simplest of stages, so that the merest sugges- 
tion (Entrances, Exits, and so on) sufficed for the 
manager. There are few indications of " busi- 
ness." Since it has become the custom to issue 
plays in book form, many dramatists feel the need 
of amplifying and expounding. Ibsen was amo.ig 
the first to do this,\and Shaw has followed in his 
steps. With the development of the drama, which 
has been extraordinarily rapid since Ibsen's day, 
has come the need of commenting upon the more 
complex settings and subtler characters, which are 
comparatively new. In general, the earlier plays 
were simpler, they treated characters more as 
types, than nowadays. With the advent of Ibsen, 
stock actors found that " First Lead," " Villain," 
and " Ingenue " were not sufficient. Therefore Ib- 
sen told something about his characters in stage- 
directions. Not satisfied with this, Shaw told a 
great deal.* He carried the practice almost to an 

• " It ts astonishing to me," says Shaw in his prefaee to 
"Plays Pleaaant and Unpleasant," Vol. I, that Ibsen, who 
devotes two years to the production of a three-act play. 



extreme, but he was practically forced to do so, be- 
cause his early plays were either censored or badly 
cast, or were for other reasons not successful on 
the stage. 

Determine, after a careful reading of the stage- 
directions in this play, which among them can be 
utilized by the actor, manager, and stage-carpen- 
ter, and which are for the reader alone. 

Compare the stage-directions of Granville 
Barker in a play like " The Voysey Inheritance " 
or " The Madras House," and of Barrie in 
" The Twelve-pound Look," with those of " Can- 

%. Among the most persistent of the many criti- 
cisms urged against Shaw is that the characters 
in his plays are for the most part merely puppets, 
without life and emotions, set in action by a very 
clever thinker and craftsman. In his " I>ramatic 
Portraits," P. P. Howe states of the characters 
in " Mrs. Warren's Profession," and makes the 

the cxtraordfQBi7 qnalltf of which depends on « mastery 
of characterisation and situation nliich can only be acUered 
by working out a good deal of the family and personal 
history of the indlvidugJs represented, should nevertheleos 
give the reading public very little more tlian the technical 
memoranda m required by the carpenter, the gasman, and 
the prompter. Who will deny that the resultant occasional 
. myBteriousness of effect, enchanting though it may t>e, ia 
produced at the cost of intellectual obscurity? Ihsen, 
interrogated as to his meaning, replies, 'What I have 
said I have said.' Precisely, but the point is that what 
he hasn't said he hasn't said." 



remark applicaUe to Shaw's characters in general : 
"... They are poppets at the end of wires, and 
the wires are attached to a battery, and Mr. Shaw 
is in charge of the current." Usually, Shaw is so 
much in earnest, go " full of his message," that he 
cannot adopt the aloof attitude as, for instance, 
"~^ Galsworthy does — and allow his personages to 
speak and act in accordance wifh their own 
thoughts, passions, and beliefs. i/Still, how far 
does Mr. Howe's criticism apply to "Candida"? 
To Lady Cecily Waynfleete in " Captain Brass- 
bound's Conversion"? Dick Dudgeon in "The 
Devil's Disciple "? Are these people human be- 
ings, or are they only puppets P 

3. Shaw spoke of the occasional mysteriousness 
in Ibsen's plays resulting from a lack of proper 
stage-directions. What is the value of Shaw's 
own stage-directions in "Candida"? Especially 
in the latter part of the first act? Would that 
scene between Marchbanks and Morrell be quite 
intelligible without themP Could the dramatist 
have made it so without themP Has he failed, 
using the novelist's method in default of dramatic 
dialogue? — What, at the end of the final act, was 
"The secret in the poet's heart"? 

4i. During his early and confessedly propagan- 
dist days Bernard Shaw fulminated against the 
conventions of the " well-made " play ; and yet he 
not infrequently made use of those same conven- 



tions in h!a own plays. As one critic put it, he 
fell in love with his own medium, and it finally mas- 
tered him. 

In " Candida " detennine in what respects the 
play is " well-made." Are the " curtains " effec- 
tive? What of the exposition!* la it clever? 
ObviousP And the development? Compare this 
play, as to its structure, with Sudennann's 
" Magda " and Bjomson's " Leonarda." 

(A still more "old-fashioned" play of Shaw's 
is his first, "Widowers' Houses," Notice the 
" asides," the soliloquy, imd the numerous stilted 
speeches in that play.) 



A comedy and a pbilosopby; a play in four acta. 
First peitotmed in 1905. 

We have seen bov in the best of Shaw's work up 
to the production of " Man and Superman " the 
thinker and preacher, while eternally trying to assert 
himself, was somehow subordinated to the dramatist. 
In this comedy — and a philosophy — however, the play 
itself is used only as a framework for a thesis. In 
the preface to the popular edition the author wrote: 
" As I have not been sparing of such hghter qualities 
as I could endow the book with for the sake of those 
who ask nothing from a play bnt agreeable pastime, 
I think it well to affirm plainly that the third act, 
however fantastic its legendary framework may ap- 
pear, is a careful attempt to write a new Book of 
Genesis for the Bible of the Evolutionists. ..." 
Not content with a long prefatory letter, he added a 
seventy-five-page " Revolutionist's Handbook " to his 
190-page play, in order to expound what of his 
philosophy he was unable to crowd into the incidental 

As a brilliant achievement, an amusing collection of 
pamphlets, as a piece of sustained clear thinking, the 
volume is a noteworthy achievement, yet " Man and 
Superman," as a play in the ordinary sense of the 
word, comes near to being spoiled: there is so much 



dissertation and so vast a sermon, that the play — 
what there is of action and character — occasionally 
appears as an impertinent intmsion. Still, there is 
enoagh left when it is presented — minus the third act, 
which has never been played with the rest — to allow 
one to see how good it might have been. 

1. In his everlasting protest against the " in- 
corribly romantic " Englishman, Shaw has written 
good plays according to the old dramatic formulas, 
and equally good oues after he threw them aside. 
In his splendid revolt against all that he considers 
false in art and life he has been consistent. Still, 
his contribution has been for the most part a nega- 
tive one. In " Arms and the Man " his message 
was the destruction of the conventional and 
" heroic " soldier ; in " Widowers' Houses " he 
made of Blanche a cold and unsympathetic girl, 
largely because he felt that Pinero and G. R. 
Sims would have made her a little friend of the 
poor. And so, in " Man and Superman " the love- 
scenes are reversed, as it were: the aggressive Ann 
Whitefield pursues the unwilling Jack Tanner. 
The conventional dramatists of all times have pic- 
tured the lover at the feet of his mistress, who is 
usually haughty and distant. Not content with 
telling the mere truth, and unwilling to utter half- 
truths about poverty and war and sex, Shaw has 
stated what appears to his normal eyes as the rule, 
from what seems to the average reader and play- 



goer a decidedly oblique angle. This he hsa done 
for the sake of emphasis, 

Shaw's " love-scenes " are highly characteristic 
of his dramatic methods. Take the lovers in 
" Widowers' Houses," those in " Mrs. Warren's 
Profession," " Arms and the Man," " You Never 
Can Tell," " The Doctor's Dilemma," and « Pyg- 
malion " ; compare them with the lovers in Pinero's 
" Iris," Jones's " Michael and His Lost Angel,'* 
and Edward Sheldon's " Romance." As a rule, 
Shaw is mortally afraid of anything touching 
upon the romantic — jet in " Candida," " The 
Doctor's Dilemma," and " The Shewing-up of 
Blanco Posnet," he indulges in his own peculiar 
way in the universal failing. He never approaches 
the Latin method, where lovers express in words 
and gestures every breath in the whirlwind of pas- 
sion. It should not be too hastily concluded- that' 
Shaw is averse from the depiction of true passion 
— ^Mrs. Dubedat in " The Doctor's Dilemma " is 
intended as a deep-feeling woman — but rather that 
he was dissatisfied with the conventional treatment 
which too often masqueraded as such, and not that 
he was, in the words of Vaughn in his own 
" Fanny's First Play," " psychologically incapable 
of the note of passion," Shaw is too much an 
artist not at least to try to make use of such powers 
as he possesses. 

S. The first act is as good a first act as Shaw: 



ever wrote: there is little discursiTeness, the plot 
is careful];, amusingly, and interestingly, begun. 
But is it quite clear? Is, for instance, the mistake 
as to Violet's position — the scene occupying the 
last few pages of the act — made unmistakably 
plain ? The act closes on this scene, and great im- 
portance is assumed as* belonging to the episode. 
Technique or no technique, the end of an act is a 
ccmspicuous place, and what is put there is bound 
to attract attention. 

3. The second act is on the whole good drama, 
concerned for the most part with the Ann-Tanner 
story; it progresses-straight up to the little chmax. 
The starting of the motor, visible to the audience, 
is a clever device for thrusting the plot forward. 
Straker is possibly a little puzzling, but he is so 
amusing that we may escuse his dramatic " super- 
fluity." So far, then, so good. 

4. The third act is never played — except inde- 
pendently, as " Don Juan in Hell " — the reason 
given being that the entire play would prove too 
long for a single representation. But Bernard 
Shaw is always so scrupulous and uncompromising 
in the matter of the presentation of his plays, that 
this excuse must be taken as tantamount to a con- 
fession of failure: the act is practically negligible 
so far as the play itself is concerned. Fortunately, 
there was scarcely any preparation in the two pre- 
ceding acts for this act, nor does the third contain 



much that concerns the fourth. Only a very tew 
minor changes are made for the stage version. 

Head the third act, and try to determine what 
relation it has with the rest of the play. 

6. The last act is good and bad, dramatically. 
In nearly every play of Shaw the dramatic qualities 
should be carefully differentiated from the intellec- 
tual, the didactic, the intrinsically amusing. The 
earlier pages of this fourth act are interesting and 
amusing, but Malone's talk about Ireland properly 
belongs to " John Bull's Other Island." " Man and 
Superman " is only resumed when Tanner and Ann 
take the stage again, and Ann, summoning up all 
her power in order to fulfil her mission in regard 
to the " Life Force," finally captures Tanner. 

Some of the more striking difficulties under 
which the dramatist labored in trying to weld to- 
gether many utterly foreign elements in this play 
have been touched upon in this outline. Can you 
discover others? There is little need to indicate 
the redeeming features of " Man and Superman ": 
the intellectual agility, the wit, the good humor, 
the essential truth of the ideas set forth. These 
are evident, but only because Shaw is so nearly a 
great dramatist is it worth the student's while to 
observe his shortcomings. 



A comedj in one scene. Firrt performed in 1908. 

If Bernard Shaw's plays are considered in chrono- 
logical order, from " Widowers' Houses " to " Mis- 
alliance," it will be observed that they evolve, as re- 
gards their technical form, from what is a more or less 
close approximation to the old-fa^oned well-made 
play to the loosest sort of conversation play. In 
studying the two plays already outlined, we have seen 
bow " Candida " was in many respects " well-made," 
and how " Man and Superman " departed to a great 
extent from formulas. In " Getting Married " a 
radical departure will be observed; a complete neglect 
of technical canons. The author claims to have re- 
turned to the Greek Unities, but this must be consid- 
ered rather the result of coincidence than of conscioos 

1. Nowadays it is more difficult to classify plays 
than formerly: there are comedies which end with 
the death of the principal character (Rostand's 
" Cyrano de Bergerac " and Jules Lemaitre's 
" Bertrade "), nondescript pieces in which the hero 
dies and his wife remarries (Shaw's " The Doctor's 
Dilemma"), and others which defy classification 
(Andreyeff's *' Anathema " and Wedekind's " Such 



is Life ")- For example, the term " play of ideas " 
may be applied to many of Ibsen's later works, 
yet " The Wild Duck " and " Rosmersholm " 
are mach more than this. Tchekoff's " The Sea- 
gull " is certainly a play of ideas, but it is at the 
same time a comedy of conversation and a tragedy. 
Yet, if we attempt to narrow the term, we may in 
general call most of Brieux's plays, most of 
Hervieu's, all of Paul-Hyacinthe Loyson's,* 
many of Shaw's, and some of Galsworthy's, plays 
of ideas.f Ijt has already been pointed out that 
every good play must be based upon some idea, 
but the particular kind of play to which we now 
refer is that in which the dramatist's prime pur- 
pose is to furnish, discuss, and evolve ideas. In 
this sense, then, " Getting Married " is a play of 

The form is not fixed, yet one of its charac- 
teristics is a good deal of conversation : the easiest 
and, in many cases, most direct method of convey- 
ing ideas on the stage is through the medium of 
dialogue. Yet the moment an audience is re- 
quired to listen to talk, the talk must be super- 
latively interesting or otherwise attractive, for ac- 

" " Les Ames ennemies," " L'Evangile dn Bang," and 
" L'Apfltre," (The last-named is translated by Barrett H. 
Clark as " The Apostle," In The Drama League Series.) 

f Brieux's "Damaged Goods" ("Les Avariis"), Her- 
vieu'a " La Lot de I'bomme," and Galsworthy's " Justice," 
are plays of ideas. 



tioQ is necessarily lacking. But Shaw is a con* 
summate dialectician and a master of speech. 
Were it not for this extraordinary devemess and 
the sheer interest aroused by the discussion, " Get- 
ting Married " would be a very dull pamphlet. 
Nothing occurs ; a group of interesting characters 
sit around and talk. 

2. In the introductory note to the printed edi- 
tion of the play, the author says : " N.B. There 
is a point of some technical interest to be noted 
in this play. The customary division into acts and 
scenes has been disused, and a return made to unity 
of time and place as observed in the ancient Greek 
drama. In * The Doctor's Dilemma,' there are 
five acts ; the place is altered five times ; and the 
time is spread over an undetermined period of more 
than a year. No doubt the strain on the attention 
of the audience and on the ingenuity of the play- 
wright is much less ; but I find in practice that 
the Greek form is inevitable when drama reaches 
a certain point in poetic and intellectual evolution. 
Its adoption was not, on my part, a deliberate 
display of virtuosity in form, but simply the 
spontaneous falling of a play of ideas into the 
form most suitable to it, which turned out to be 
the classical form. ' Getting Married,' in several 
acts and scenes, with the time spread over a long 
period, would be impossible." 

Notice, however, that Shaw does not claim unity 



of action, the third of Aristotle's Unities, for the 
very good reason that there is no action to anify. 

3. With the above explanation as a basis, and 
vith what of the long preface the reader cares to 
peruse, let him see how the dramatist has managed 
to present his characters and his ideas so as to 
interest his audience. 

First, the theme is of interest to the greater part 
of the audience; second, a large number and 
variety of characters is introduced ; third, the 
details, the odds and ends of what would be action 
in an ordinary play, are allowed especial promi- 

In what other ways does Shaw attract and hold 
the attention? What are his methods for supply- 
ing an equivalent of action, story, suspense, etc.? 

4. Once again, is it pertinent to inquire, What 
is a Play? (See Introduction to " The Continental 
Drama of To-day.") Critics find it needful to 
modify their definitions, if they are sufBciently 
courageous to make them, so that it might not be 
a great exaggeration to declare that anything 
that " goes " on the stage is a play. 

After all, is there any basis for the assertion 
that because " Getting Married " has no action, 
it is therefore merely a series of dialogues on mar- 
riage? Has not Shaw rather helped to broaden 
the field of drama? 

5. In what respects, if any, is this " comedy " 




a play, in the accepted conTentional sense of the 
term? Are there any resemblances here to a work 
like " The Second ■ Mrs. Tanqueray," or 
" Magda "? 

6. Do you see any reason why Shaw, after writ- 
ing " Getting Married " and " Misalliance," re- 
turned to the more conventional forms in " The 
Shewing-up of Blanco Posnet," " Fanny's First 
Play," and " Pygmalion " ? 



A play in one act First produced in IffOfl, (Cen- 
sored in England.) 

This " erode sermon in melodrama " is one of the 
most pointedly didactic of all Shaw's plays. As there 
is scarcely enoogh material to warrant its' development 
into two or three acts, the author rightly pats it into 
one. Yet as it now stands it is not a highly successful 
one-act play. Sudermann's " Fritzchen " contains but 
a single incident, which is treated in one breath, as 
it were: the audience is present while the tragedy is 
enacted. In Shaw's play, however, the audience sees 
only sections of the play, rather disjointed sections. 
Sndermann was interested primarily in the artistic 
effect, Shaw in the demonstration of a paycholo^cal 
and religious phenomenon. When it is possible to set 
forth an idea and do it artistically, Shaw is witling to 
be an artist, bnt when the idea must suffer, Shaw pre- 
fers to be less an artist and more a preacher. 

1. As the audience for which the dramatist 
originally wrote was unacquainted with the miUeu 
— as was Shaw himself — ^he was forced to create 
it: notice the rather pointed conversation among 
the women which occupies the first four pages. 
These speeches acquaint us with the situation, and 



prepare us for Blanco's entrance (p. 411). Again, 
the stage-directions accomplish much more than 
Blanco's words, because Shaw could more easily 
describe a character of whom he had no first- 
hand knowledge than make him real bj means of 
speech and action. 

Possibly the occasional stilted and foreign at- 
mosphere throughout is due to the fact that the 
entire setting and characters are drawn from the 
dramatist's knowledge of Bret Harte and Jack 
London, rather than Blanco Fosnet himself and 
Elder Daniels. 

S, On the bottom of page 414 begins a long 
conTersation between Blanco and his brother. 
This dialogue is introduced for the purpose of 
making clear something of the lives of the two 
men: the six pages adranoe the theme while the 
play, as drama, stands still. The artistic unity 
of the piece suffers, while Shaw accomplished his 
end. The action is resumed the moment (p. 421) 
Strapper says, " I've got my witness ; and I'D trou- 
ble you not to make a move towards her when she 
comes in to identify you." The woman Blanco ex- 
pects does not come in ; this time it is only Feemy, 
but the audience, seeing Blanco's fear, is curious to 
know the exact reason. He is not afraid of Feemy, 
that is certain. Who, then, is the mysterious 
woman of whom the horse-thief said: "A woman? 
She ain't real: neither is the child." The trial 



then proceeds. This is a good scene, full of 
amusing and character-revealing incidents. Then 
(p. 4S9) the action stops, and The Woman enters. 
Up to this point the dramatist has been preparing 
the scene for the statement of hia thesis. Blanco, 
having undergone his one great " religious experi- 
ence," now begins to show the results of it. 

The Sheriff.— Where's the child? 

Strapper. — On Pug Johnson's bench in bia shed. 
He's making a coffin for it 

Blanco. — {with a horrible convultion of the throat, 
frantkalls) Dead! The little Judas kid' The child 
I gave m; life for! (He breakt into hideou* 

It is dangerous to stop the action of a play, 
especially a one-act play, within a few minutes of 
the end, but in this case the thesis is so interesting 
and the action so relatively unimportant, that the 
audience is likely to forget the play for the idea. 

3. The thesis of this play is so abstract, so 
subtle, that the dramatist must resort to extremes, 
to " get it over." It is more than likely that such 
a man as the hardened horse-thief would have said 
nothing of the revolution which had taken place 
in his Boul, had it not been for the entrance of The 
Woman. This was Shaw's method of showing, not 
the experience itself — which would have been im- 
possible — but the result of the experience. But in 



order to drive home his idea, he felt it was neces- 
sary to show Blasco actually trying, if not to 
reform at least to convince, hia companions of the 
genuineness of his temporary conversion. 

No one will deny that to the worst of " bad 
men " there come experiences of this sort, hut they 
are rarely external in their manifestation. It is 
not the place of the present volume to criticise the 
ideas of dramatists, except in so far as they influ- 
ence the form of the drama. Still, it may be asked, 
is this play convincing? It is not intended as a 
comedy, although it b amusing, nor is it primarily 
a character study : it is a sermon in plaj form. 



H. Granville Barker was bora at Loudon in 1877- 
At an earl; age he became an actor in a provincial com* 
pany. He first appeared on the London stage in 189^. 
Playing under Lewis Waller and Ben Greet, then 
with the Elizabethan Stage Society, and finally with 
Mrs. Campbell, he slowly rose in the theatrical world, 
During many years be produced plays and acted ioi 
the Stage Society, where he mounted many of Shaw's 
plays for the first time. In 1904, together with J. E. 
Vedrenne, he managed the Court Theater, where he 
made known to theater-goers many new plays by 
Sbaw, Haukia, Barrie, Galsworthy, and himself. He 
has continued bis managerial activities at the Duke 
of York's Theater, the Savoy — where he has suc- 
ceeded signally in some Sbakaperian revivals — the St 
James's, and the Kingsway. 

Granville Barker is a keen observer of life, pos- 
sessing a remarkable talent for putting his ideas into 
dramatic shape. His best plays are faithful pictures 
of obaraeter: "The Voysey Inheritance" is one of 
the best portrayals of middle-class English family 
life of modem times ; " Waste " is a tragedy with an 
essentially timely and interesting theme; "The 
Madras House" is an acute and penetrating comedy 
of character. Barker is not a devotee of the well- 
made play, for he carefully avoids the well-trodden 



paths of Pinero; in certain pla^s, "The Madras 
House " especially, his work at first view appears 
amorphous aod ineffective. Yet this comedy, formless 
in the conventional eense as it undoubtedly is, could 
not have been forced into the tnoold of such a play 
as " The Thunderbolt." In " Prunella " and " The 
Harlequinttde," both collaborations, and in " At the 
Mitre," Barker has essayed the poetic drama with 
remarkable success. 


The Weather Hkn (in collaboration with Berte 
Thomas, 1899). 

Performed at the Manhattan Theater, New York 
The Marrying of Ann Leete (1903). 
Prunella (in collaboration with Laurence Honsman, 

Performed at the Little Theater, New York 1918. 
The Votset iNHSHrrANCE (1909). 
Wabtk (1909). 
The Maorab House (I9IO). 
Rococo (1911). 

Besides the above, Barker has adapted Schnitzler's 
" Auatol " (Kennerley) and, in collaboration with 
W. C. E. Wheeler, the same author's " Das Marchen." 
(Not published.) He has also written a dialogue, 
" At the Mitre," which was produced at the Fine Arts 
Theater, Chicago 191S. (Not published.) 

" The Marrying of Ann Leete," " The Voysey In- 
heritance," and " Waste " are published by Kcnner- 



ley as "Three Plays by Grannlle Barker"; "Pro- 
Delia " is published by Dnffield ; " The Madras 
House " by Kennerley. " The Weather Hen " and 
" Rococo " and " The Harlequinade " are not pub- 
lished. " The Madras House " ia included in " Chief 
Contemporary Dramatists" (Houghton Mifflin). 

Beperknces: Ashley Dukes, "Modern Drama- 
tists " (Sergei) ; Archibald Henderson, " European 
Dramatists " (Stewart and Kidd) ; John Palmer," The 
Future of the Theater " (Bell, London) ; Ludwig Lew- 
isohn, "The Modem Drama" (Huebseh); WUliam 
Archer, " Playmaking " (Small, Maynard) ; P. P. 
Howe, " The Repertory Theater," and " Dramatic 
Portraits" (Kennerly); William Archer and Gran- 
ville Barker, " Schemes and Estimates for a National 
Theater" (Dnffield); Frank Wadleigh Chandler, 
" Asprects of Modern Drama " (Macmillan) ; Mario 
Borsa, "The English Stage of To-day" (Lane); 
Desmond McCarthy, " The Court Theater " (A. H. 
Bullen) ; Granville Barker, Introductions to " Three 
Plays of Maeterlinck" (Gowans and Grey), and his 
own editions of " A Midsummer Night's Dream," 
" Twelfth Night," and " A Winter's Tale " (Sidgwick 
and Jackson). — Magazine* : Bookman (London), 
July, 191*; Forum, vol sliv (p. 159) ; Bookman (New 
York), vol, sxxv (p. 195); Fortnightly, vol. xev (p. 
60) and vol. c (p. 100); Nation, voL xci (p. 19), 
vol. xciv (p. 445); Harper"! Weekly, vol. Ivi (p. 6); 
North American, vol. cxcv (p. 5720) ; Drama, No. 2. 



A play in five sets. First performed in 1905. 

This ^oung dramatist's work is undoabtedly among 
the ablest achievements in the realm of recent British 
drama; its freshness, its cleverness, its deft handling 
of middle-class types, its theme, strike a new note in 
drama. Unlike the didactic plays of Shaw, unlike the 
fantasies of Barrie, or the rigid pieces of Gala- 
■worthy, " The Voysey Inheritance " is pure character 
writing, literature in the true dramatic sense. It has 
been only moderately succesaful, but this is due 
largely to the fact that the aadiences were behind 
the dramatist: the play is European, in the larger 
sense of the term. 

1. !bi the Shaw outlines (pp. 7S-4) some at- 
tention was given to the matter of stage-direc- 
tions. In the English theater of to-day there are 
three dramatists who use this method of affording 
their readers a greater insight into the characters 
than could be afforded in actual stage presentation : 
Shaw, Barrie, and Granville Barker. Shaw refused 
to rely upon the actors ; Barrie, who has until re- 
cently refused to allow his plays to be printed> 
felt that without the actors the reader could not 
possibly re-create the necessary atmosphere; 



Barker probably felt that owing to the failure 
(from a practical viewpoint) of most of his plajs, 
it was his right to reconstruct the miliai by means 
of words. 

Such directions as the following must be very 
annoying to the average manager: 

. . . Relieved of hit coat, Mr. Voyteg earriei to 
hit table the bunch of beautiful rotet he it accuttomed 
to bring to the office three time* a meek, and placet 
them for a moment only, near the bowl of water there 
ready to receive them, while he taket up his lettert. 

A play intended only for the manager would, of 
course, have no reference to the fact that Voysey 
" M accustomed to bring " the flowers " to the 
office three times a week," as this cannot he shown 
on the stage. Such directions are obviously for 
the reader, or for such managers as are willing to 
study the manuscript and endeavor to reproduce 
the atmosphere which the dramatist has striven to 

The printed play often resembles the novel 
or story in its narrative directions. Turn to the 
opening of the second act of this play. Speaking 
of the dining-room at Chislehurst, the author says: 
" It has the usual red-papered walls (Uke a reflec- 
tion, they are, of the underdone beef so much con- 
sumed within them-)," etc. While tKis is distinctly 
outside the province of what can be done by the 



stage carpenter, it should be advantageous to an 
imaginative director. 

Compare the stage-directions of " Man and 
Superman," " The Vojsey Inheritance," and " The 
Twelve-pound Look." 

S. This play is a character-comedy, a play of 
ideas, and a conversation piece. There are long 
scenes which, strictly speaking, have little or 
nothing to do with the play itself, but are they 
necessarily superfluous P What has been the 
dramatist's purposeP 

Has the same author's " Waste " any superflu- 
ous scenes? 

S. One of the signs and results of the " com- 
mercialization " of the present-day English and 
American stages is the reduction of the number of 
characters in a play. Each character means an- 
other actor, and another twenty-five to five hun- 
dred dollars a week increase in the pay-roll. This 
is of course not invariably the reason for the 
existence of small casts in many modem plays: 
often the dramatist needs but three, four, five, or 
six characters, and takes pride in the fact that he 
can construct a full-length piece without having 
recourse to the rather facile Shaksperian method 
of bringing in a character every time he thinks 
he needs one. Jules Lemaitre in " The Pardon," 
Hubert Henry Davies in " The Mollusc," and H. 
S. Sheldon in " The Havoc," have written skilful 



and artistic plajs with — in the case of the first — 
three, and in the latter, four characters only. 
However, a manager will try his best to cut down 
the cast as much as possible. 

Can this be done to " The Voysey Inheritance"? 
Take the character you consider the least impor- 
tant from the play. How would the play suffer? 
Take two, then three. 

Do you think that Barker required aU the char- 
acters he put into this play? If so, in what way? 
That is, did he prefer to paint a picture of life, 
regardless of the artistic arrangement of its com- 
ponent elements, or did he imagine that the more 
characters he introduced the more interesting 
would the play be? Briefly, did he adopt the 
dramatist's viewpoint, or the novelist's? 



Stephen Phillips was bom at Somertown, England, 
in 1667. After receiving his primary education at 
Peterborough, he joined F. R. Benson's company, in 
which he acted for some years. For a while he 
adopted the profession of array tator, then devoted 
himself entirely to the writing of plays and poetry. 
At present he is editor of the Poetry Review. 

Phillips is a phenomenon in the English theater of 
to-day: a poet who has partially succeeded on the 
stage. In a day when the theater public will not 
listen to poetry, he has dared to be poetic, but he has 
likewise had the good sense to mix with bis poetry 
a generous infusion of truly dramatic qualities. In 
the words of E. E. Hale, Jr., he " may succeed on 
the stage, but it will be in spite of his poetry and 
not by reason of it." 


Paolo and Francesca (189£)). 

Performed at the New Amsterdam Theater, New 
York 1906. 
Herod (1900). 

Performed at the Lyric Theater, New York 1909. 
Ulysses (1902). 

Performed at the Garden Theater, New York 1902. 



Th« Sin or Datid (190*). 

Nero (1906). 

Faust (in collaboration with J. ComTos Can, 1908). 

PiETRO OF Siena (1909). 

The Kino (1910). 

Nero's Mother (I91S). 

The Adterbart (1918). 

Harolu (1915). ' 

Besides the above are: "The Last Heir," "The 
Bride of Lammermoor," " No. 6," and " Arma- 
geddon." The first of these has not been published, 
while the other two have not yet been produced. All 
the published plays are issued by Lane. 

References: E. E. Hale, Jr., " Dramatists of To- 
day " (Holt) ; William Areher, " Real Conversations " 
(Heinemann, London) ; Arthur Symons, " Studies in 
Prose and Verse " (Dutton) ; Clayton Hamilton, 
"The Theory of the Theater" (Holt); Brander 
Matthews, " The Historical Novel " (Scribner's) ; 
F. W. Chandler, " Aspects of Modern Drama " (Mac- 
millan) ; Ludwig Lewisohn, " The Modem Drama " 
(Heubscb). — Magasine*: Atlantic, vol. ECii (p. 120) 
and vol. cii (p. 809) ; Fortnightly, vol. xci (p. 887) ; 
Arena, vol. xxziii (p. 474) ; North Amtrican, vol. 
clxxii (p. 79*) ; Bookman, vol. xiii (p. 2*) ; QuarteHy 
Review, vol. cxev (p. *86) ; Poet-Lore, vol. xii (p. 
126); Nation, voL Ixx (p. 861); WeMtminiter, voL 
dvi (p. 187). 



A tragedy in fonr acts. First perfonned in 1902. 

It is a remarkable fact that although, since the very 
beginnings of drama, plays have been written in 
verse, the legitimacy of the " poetic drama " is still 
called into question. There is, however, some ground 
for such a discussion, yet it is undeniable that if a 
play be good drama and good poetry it is " legiti- 
mate." Perhaps becaase of the naturalistic tendency 
of the past twenty-five or thirty years, during which 
the English poetic drama has been at its lowest ebb, 
BKire " closet drama " than acting pieces have been 
written than would otherwise bare been the case, 
merely because the form had fallen into disfavor with 
theater-goers. Wbeta the great Victorian poets — 
Tennyson, Browning, Swinburne, and Matthew 
Arnold — wrote plays, they had only the vaguest no- 
tion of the exigencies of the stage: "Queen Mary," 
" A Blot in the 'Scutcheon," " AtalanU in Calydon," 
and " Empedocles " are written to appeal rather to 
the ear and the intellect than to the eye and the more 
elemental emotions. These poets were either unaware 
that the dramatic form was totally different from the 
lyric or epic, or they did not care to write plays 
for the stage, preferring the " dramatic poem." For 
the most part they failed to distinguish dramatic 
dialogue from lyric and epic verse. Browning's lines 
W ... 



in " A Blot in the 'Scntcheon " reveal character, bat 
they fail to indicate " spiritual action." The re- 
anltant play givea one the impression of reading a 
Dnmber of the poet's " Dramatic Monologues," strung 
together upon a thread of atory: in other words, he 
gains nothing through casting his thoughts in what 
appears to be play form. 

Shakspere affords as the finest example of dramatic 
dialogue: in the lines he reveals character, creates 
atmosphere, indicates spiritual action, and advances 
the story. The following random quotation from 
" Macbeth " will serve as illustration of the point: 
. . , The raven himself is hoarse 
That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan 
Under my battlements. Come, you spirits 
That tend on mortal thoughts, unses me here. 
And fill me, from the crown to the toe, top-full 
Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood. 
Stop up the access and passage to remorse. 
That no compunctious visitings of nature 
Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between 
The effect and it! Come to my woman's breasts. 
And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers. 
Wherever in your sightless substances 
You wait on nature's mischief ! Come, thick night. 
And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell. 
That my keen knife see not the wound it makes. 
Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark, 
To cry, " Hold, hold! " 

Enter Macbeth. 

Great Glamis! worthy Cawdor! 



Gre&ter than both, by the all-bail hereafter! 

Thy letters have transported me beyond 

This ignorant present, and I feel now 

The future in the instant. 

Stephen Phillips, in " Ulysses," " Herod," and 
" Paolo and Francesca," has shown some gift for 
dramatic dialogue ; and as a dramatist, many particu- 
lar scenes from these plays give evidence of a sense 
of the theater and considerable skill in developing a 
plot. Still " Paolo and Francesca," in many ways 
this poet's finest effort, is far from a good play — in any 
sense of the term — chiefly because Phillips the poet 
stands out above Phillips the dramatist. 

1. Most poetic plays are modeled, with certain 
modifications, upon the plays of ancient Greece 
or those of the age of Elizabeth, and Stephen 
Phillips, being an Englishman, follows — even in 
" Ulysses " — Elizabethan models. 

As the story of Paolo and Francesca is well 
known — it appears in Dante's *' Divine Comedy " 
— we are prepared for such mystic forebodings 
(technically speaking, " preparation ") as occupy 
the greater part of the brief first act. First, 
Paolo's desire to leave, his brother's anxiety, then 
the scene (pp. 22-6) with Lucrezia, and that im- 
mediately following, with the blind Angela. There 
is no need to leave the audience in doubt as to what 
the story is to be: Angela's words supply the 
necessary warning: 



WiM face wu dim: a twilight straggles back. 

I see two lying dead upon a bier — 

Slain suddenly, and in eacb other's arms. . . . 

... He BhaU be 
Not far to seek: yet perilous to find. 
Unwillingly he comes a wooing: she 
Unwillingly is wooed: yet shall they woo. 
His kisa was on her lips ere she was bom. 

And Stephen Phillips, the dramatist, adds the 
stage-direction : " Francetca, in patting, ptmtei 
and offert trinket to Angela, who shudden, letting 
it fall. Exeunt aU but Angela, vho remaint star- 
ing before her." If there was the least shadow of 
doubt in the mind of the audience as to the truth of 
Angela's words, her action would dispel it. 

2. So far, the story is compact and moving. 
The second act is well developed up to the second 
scene (p. 51), which takes up the plot as it was 
left in the first act. Giovanni is made aware of 
the identity of Francesca's fated lover. Then the 
scene changes — Shakspere's method again — to a 
more or less " comic relief " scene, written in 
prose. This interlude is followed by Paolo's 
soliloquy (pp. 69-61). 

The soliloquy in modem plays is considered to 
be a confession of weakness on the part of the 
dramatist. It had hitherto been used largely as 
a makeshift by the dramatist who was unwilling 
or unable to reveal character or advance his plot 



bj other and more natural means. Yet in tfae 
poetic drama it is permissible — that is, if it re- 
veals character, creates atmosphere, or advances 
the story. Obviously, Paolo's speech reveals some 
character, but as a dramatic expedient its inser- 
tion at this critical point must be considered a 
blemish on the play. The point for the dramatist 
was, how to get Paolo to return to Francescap 
The struggle goes on in Paolo's mind, and the 
poet has only to give words to the lover's thoughts 
and emotions. But in a play that is not sufficient. 
Just how this end was to be accomplished is not 
our business or intention to determine ; yet the fact 
remains that a monologue is not sufficiently con- 
vincing, especially as the monologue leaves us in 
doubt as to the character's immediate intentions. 
Here is the end of the speech : 

I cannot go ; thrilling from Rimini, 

A tender voice makes all the trumpets mate. 

I cannot go from her: may not return. 

O God! what is thy will upon me? Ah! 

One path there is, a straight path to the dark. 

There, in the ground, I can betray no more, 

And there forever am I pure and cold. 

The means ! No dagger blow, nor violence shown 

Upon my body to distress her eyes. 

Under some potion gently will I die; 

And they that find me dead shall lay me down 

Beantifol as a sleeper at her feet 



3. The break in the middle of Act II was justi- 
fiable because of the contrast it alTorded. The 
third act, however, should intensify the plot, draw 
the attention to the central idea, not because of 
a certain law of dramatic technic, but because the 
human mind demands this sort of synthesis. To 
start a story, develop it a little, then stop it, then 
play around it, is not only bad art but bad psy- 
chology: we demand a logical continuation of the 
story when it is once started. In place of this we 
have another contrast scene, which opens the act, 
then Giovanni's entrance (p. 70), and his rather 
unconvincing errand ; the coincidence of his over^ 
hearing Paolo, then Paolo's soliloquy (p. 78), and 
finally Giovanni's scene with the messenger (pp. 
80-1). This is all very ragged. Then — Scene 8 
— there is a good dramatic scene. Note the 
" atmosphere " lines : 

Francetca. — I cannot sleep, Nita; I will read here. 

Is it dawn yet? {Nita *et» lamp damn.') 

Nita. — No, lady: yet I see 

A flnshing in the east. 

Francetca. — How still it is! 

Nita. — This is the stillest time of night or day! 

Toward the end of the act, the poet's mistake in 
crowding too many incidents into a small space 
becomes only too apparent; not only does the 



crowding confuse, but it occupies space which 
fihould be given, we feel, to the love scene. We are 
told, it is true, that the two " have to each other 
moved all night," but how much more telling and 
convincing would have been a longer scene between 
the lovers, such as D'Annunzio gave in his " Fran- 
cesca da Rimini " ! 

4. That admirable love scene which should have 
supported the third act is placed instead in the 
otherwise admirable fourth. 

5. There are lyrical passages throughout, not 
many it is true, which do not contribute to the 
story. Can jou pick these out? On the other 
hand, there are dramatic lines and passages which 
are peculiarly apt and effective. Among these 
latter are: 

Henceforward let no woman have two sons, (p. 51) 

So still it is that we might almost hear 

The sigh of all the sleepers in the world, (p. 85) 

. . . You then that huddle all together 
Like cattle against thunder — what hath chanced? 

Paolo. — Why did you shiver and turn sudden cold? 
Franeetca. — I felt a wind pass over me. (p. Ill) 



I did not know the dead could have snch hair. 
Hide them. They look like children fast asleep, 
(p. 120) 

These are lines that could not be so effective 
were they not spoken by the right person under the 
right circumstances. Find further examples. 



St. John Emile Clavermg Hankia was bom in I860 
at Southampton. His early education was received 
in his native city, bnt he later attended Malvern Col- 
lege, and then Merton College at Oxford. After bis 
graduation in 1890, he went to London, and entered 
the field of jonnialism. Four years later, be went 
to Calcutta, there pursuing bis journalistic career. 
The following year he returned and began writing 
for The Timet and Punch. In 1909, as a result of 
bis nearasthenic condition, and in a fit of depression, 
he drowned himself. 

Hankin is among the number of recent English 
dramatists whose aim it was to give to the stage plays 
of charm and individuality and containing a valuable 
comment on life. He allied himself with the pioneers 
of the Court Theater and the Stage Society, where 
innovations and attempts to break loose from the con- 
ventionalities of the day were freely accepted. Prob- 
ably because of his premature death in 1909, Hankin 
has been a little too highly praised. John Drinkwater 
(in his introduction to the " Dramstjc Works ") says: 
" St. John Hnnkin lived and wrote at the beginning 
of a new mi ment, and bis permanent distinction 
in drama will be rather that of right endeavor and 
the recapture of just instincts than of full-bodied 
achievement . . . that he was one of the few who 



first soagbt to bring back sincerity and a fit dignity 
of form to the great art is a distinction of which he 
will not easily be deprived." Hankin was more a 
symptom than a finished prodnct; yet his efforts to 
produce life in an artistic and pleasing framework, 
and his quaint wit, entitle him to a place among the 
less important members of the advance guard. 


The Two Mb. Wethehbys (1908). 

Performed at the Madison Square Theater, New 
York 1901. 
The Retubn of the Pbodiqal (190S). 
Thk Charity That Began at Home (1906). 
The Cabsilis Enhagement (1907). 
The Constant Lover (1912)- 
The Last of the Db Muli-inh (1908). 
The Burglar Who Failed (1908), 
Thompson (finished by George Calderon). 

Not performed. 

The definitive edition of the " Dramatic Works of 
St. John Hankin, witli an Introduction by John 
Drinkwater " is published in three volumes by Kenner- 
ley. " Thompson " is published separately by the 
same publisher, Samuel French publishes cheap 
paper editions of " The Return of the Prodigal," " The 
Cassilis Engagement," " The Charity That Began at 
Home," and " The Two Mr. Wetherbys." 

References: Introduction to the "Dramatic 
Works " ; P. P. Howe, " Dramatic Portraits," " The 



Repertory Theater" (Kennerley); J. M. Kennedy, 
" English Literature, 1880-1903 " (Stephen Swift, 
London) ; Charlton Andrews, " The Drama To-day " 
(Lippincott) ; Mario Borsa, " The English Stage of 
To-day " (Lane) ; Desmond McCarthy, " The Court 
Theater" (Sidgwick and Jackson, London); Archi- 
bald Henderson, " The Changing Drama " (Holt). — 
Magazine*: Fortnightly, vol. Ixxxvi (p. 105S), vol. xc 
(p. 10S8); Living Age, vol. cclxii (p. 36), vol. cclzxx 
(p. 781) ; Nation, vol. xcri (p. 315) ; North American, 
vol. cxcvii (p. 78); Forum, vol. zlviii (p. 718). 



A comedy in four acts. First perfonned in 1907. 

Tlie influence of Oscar Wilde is evident Lady 
Remenham's " Engagements are such troublesome 
things. They sometimes even lead to marriage. Bat 
we'll hope it won't be as bad as that in this case," is 
decidedly reminiscent. The characters are mostly 
types; still, in most of Hankin's plays there is an 
effort to break away from the mere lay-figures of 
Wilde and infuse into them the breath of life. The 
prodigal in " The Return of the Prodigal," Etbel 
and Mrs. Cassiljs in tbe comedy under discussion, are 
human beings, even if Lady Remenham, Mrs. Bor- 
ridge, and Geoffrey are time-worn types. 

1. Haokin has theorized on the writing of plays, 
and his words possess added interest and value in 
connection with the study of " The Cassilis En- 
gagement." He once said : " I select an episode 
in the life of one of my characters or a group of 
characters, when something of importance to their 
future has to be decided, and I ring up my cur- 
tain. Having shown how it was decided, and why 
it was so decided, I ring it down again." This 
comedy is clear and unified — quite in accordance 
with the dramatist's theory — but it will be well to 



inquire into the exact methods whereby he at- 
tained the desired end. 

What is the " episode " round which this play 
was built? Where is it first referred to — ^that is, 
where is the theme announced? Is it made clear 
through a " raisonneur," or is it evolved in action 
or in apparently casual conversation? Are we 
asked to interest ourselves in a " character," or a 
** group of characters " ? Which character, imd 
which group of characters? 

Could the author have advantageously begun his 
play at an earlier or later time than he did? 
That is, was his curtain " rung up " at the most 
interesting and opportune moment of the epi- 

How was the " something of importance to their 
future " decided? By what means has the drama- 
tist worked out hia stated central idea? 

2. The " curtains " in this play deserve especial 
attention: a crisp and pregnant phrase, an in- 
cident, a mysterious word — each causes the audi- 
ence to await impatiently the opening of the next 
act. Notice with what care, apparently artless, 
the first act is terminated. Mrs. Cassilis's " Marry 
her! — Nonsense, my dear Margaret," instantly 
attracts our attention and directs our interest to 
the speaker. We wish to know precisely how 
Geoffrey and Ethel are to be " cured," and want 
to see how the (evidently) clever Mrs. Cassihs is 



to effect ^he cure. Plot interest, as distinguished 
from character interest, is here introduced. 

In what way is the second act remarkable? The 

It is as important to close a play without arous- 
ing further interest as to close each of the pre- 
ceding acts in the reverse manner. There should 
be an air of finality which precludes further curi- 
osity; we should have no definite wish to inquire 
into the future. To lead an audience to expect 
more, after the play is over, is as fatal as to 
deprive it of sufficient curiosity after the first act. 
The dramatist must know where to end his play. 
In a tragedy this particular point is not difficult 
to determine, for a tragedy usually ends in the 
death or failure of the protagonist. For centuries 
comedies have ended with the union of lover and 
sweetheart, who had, during one, two, three, four, 
or five acts, been kept apart more or less skilfully 
by the hand of the dramatist. Of recent years, 
writers, even of comedy, have begun to discard 
the conventional notion that the united lovers mar- 
ried and lived happy ever after, and have sought 
a closer approximation to life. They have come 
to realize that, as Emile Faguet once remarked, 
the marriage is not the end but the beginning of 
trouble. To mention two random instances, 
Maurice Donnay's "Lovers" ("Amants") and 
Henry Bataille's " Foliche " end with a scene where 



the lovers separate ; thej do this because only by 
an amicable breaking-off can they be assured of 
true and lasting happiness. Here the dramatists 
have repudiated marriage as the balm for wounded 

Hankin disliked "happy endings." (See his 
article on this subject in the third volume of the 
" Dramatic Works,") Is the ending of " The 
Cassilis Engagement " satisfactory, psychologi- 
cally and artistically P 

3. Analyze the third act, and determine, so far 
as possible, the following questions: How much 
of the story is carried on in pantomime through 
the stage- directions P Could, for example, the 
" Bye-play for Ethel's song," etc. (p. 78, French's 
edition, p. 193, VoL U, " Dramatic Works ") have 
been worked out in dialogue? Is the dumb-show 
more effective than ordinary dialogue would beP 
Is Ethel's change of attitude likely and con- 
vincing P 

Compare " The Cassilis Engagement *' as a 
study in character and technic with the same 
author's " The Return of the Prodigal." 



Charlea Haddon Chftmbers was born at Stanmore, 
New South Walea, in I860. He was educated pri- 
vately and at Sydney. In 1873 he entered the CivU 
Service. Five years later be visited England. In 
1882 he definitely settled there and became a journal- 
ist, writer of stories, and dramatist. 

Chambers is one of the popular playwrights who 
have added little to the theater save a number of amus- 
ing and sentimental comedies. His technic differs 
little from that of Pinero, except that it ia not so 
highly developed. Besides writing three or four playa 
of some value as contemporary pictures of manners, 
he has adapted a number of French plays, taking from 
them the flavor of the original and substituting a 
British atmosphere in order to render them acceptable 
to a public, in America as well as iu England, which 
is not as yet ready to judge works of art according to 
European standards. 

One of Them (1886). 
The Open Gate (1887). 

Performed at the Broadway Theater, New York 
Captain Swipt (1888). 

Performed at the Madison Square Theater, New 
York 1888. 
The InLEH (1890). 

Performed at the Lyceum Theater, New York IS90. 



The Honourablk Herbert (1891). 
The Old Lady (189S). 
Thk Pipe of Peace (1892). 

Performed at the Lyceum Theater, New York 1802. 
John-a-Driahs (1894). 

Performed at tbe Empire Theater, New York 1893. 
The Tyranny of Tears (1899). 

Performed at the Empire Theater, New York 1899. 
The Awakknino (1901). 
The Golden Silence (1903). 
Sir Anthony (1906). 
Pamers-By (1911). 

Performed at the CriterioD Theater, New York 

CoUaborated in tlie following: 
Detil Caresfoot (1887). 
The Queen of Manoa (1892). 
Thk Fatal Card (1894). 

Performed at the Academy of Music,New York 1895. 
Boys Tooethes (1896). 
The Dayb of the Duke (1897). 

Chambers has adapted « number of French plays 
and dramatised a few novels. 

" The Idler," " Captain Swift," " The Open Gate," 
and " Sir Anthony," are poblished by Samnel Frettch; 
" The Tyranny of Tears " and " The Awakening " by 
Walter H. Baker; " Passers-By " by Brentano's, 

Refebbnce: Introduction to the Baker edition of 
" The Tyranny of Tears." — Magazine* : Bookman, 
Tol. xxxiv (p. 24<2), Tol. xxxTiii (p. 264) ; McClure't, 
vol. xlii (p. 91). 



The play is technically of the Pioero-Jonea school; 
still, it has a freslmess which is aometimes lacking in 
cleverer and more brilliant plays. There are no sur- 
priaea, there is little to astound or arouse to deep 
reflection. Based upon one of those inherent human 
qualities easily recognized by an average audience, it 
pursues its agreeable way through four pleasing acts. 

1. In dealing with a conventional comedy of 
this sort it is fitting that conventional standards 
be applied to it. It will be seen that such plays 
as Elizabeth Baker's " Chains " and certain pieces 
of Granville Barker cannot so easily be measured 
according to older standards, but practically all 
the works of Jones, Pinero, Chambers, Davies, and 
Somerset Maugham, are easy to classify. Nor 
need this imply any detraction from their merits; 
originality in itself is little enough. While there 
is nothing new under the sun there may be new 
angles of vision, but a dramatist who chooses to 
view life from his new-found angle may be able 
to lay no better claim upon our admiration than 
that he has discovered a new manner. It is in- 
finitely better to write a good play founded upon 
old and accepted formulas than a poor play 



upon new and untried ones. The dramatist who 
writes conventional plays has the form readj 
at hand, and may proceed at once to attack the 
matter. A play by Pinero or Jones may almost 
invariably be counted upon to be masterly in form, 
and we may, a» Bernard Shaw once said of the 
latter's plays, attack the matter without troubling 
about the manner. 

*' The Tyranny of Tears " is a conventional 
comedy of character and sentiment. Determine 
whether the dramatist has wished his audience to 
be more interested in the story, or the characters. 
What foundation is there for your opinion? Does 
Chambers intend to write a play showing how a 
man may be tyrannized over by a loving wife, or 
is he rather concerned with a story, into which 
he has allowed an idea, as it were, to wanderP 

S. Few more striking instances of the basic 
difference between French and English tempera- 
ment and ideas can be found than by compar- 
ing the treatment of a similar theme in this 
play and in Porto-Riche's " Amoureuse." The 
Frenchman is concerned chiefly with the sexual 
side of the marriage, and insists that Etienne is 
forced to remain with his wife because she is still 
physically attractive to him. Chambers calls this 
attraction " tears " and makes of the story a pleas- 
ant and innocuous comedy. Porto-Riche goes 
straight to the heart of the question. In Anglo- 



Saxon countries the problem would appear much 
as Chambers has related it, while in Latin lands it 
would more closely resemble Porto-Riche's treat- 
ment. Chambers could not have written " Amou- 
reuse " because he doubtless lacked the insight, and 
would not have written it, even had the censor 
passed it. On the other hand, Porto-Riche would 
not have wasted his time on what he would doubt- 
less consider a prudish and trivial piece of work 
like " The Tyranny of Tears." 

3. In Professor Brander Matthews' " A Study 
of the Drama," the author divides certain parts 
of dialogue, after the manner of the French crit- 
ics, into three kinds: Mot* de caractSre, Mots de 
mtuationy and Mots d'eiprit. He says (p. 126): 
" The French, among whom the critical faculty 
is more acutely developed than among other peo- 
ples, have a larger vocabulary of critical terms 
than there is in any other language; and they 
have devised a classification of certain of the ef- 
fects of dialogue which arc common to every type 
of comic play. They call a jest which evokes 
laughter a mot, and they make a distinction which 
is not easy to render in English between mots 
d'esprit, mots de situation, and mots de caractire. 
The mot d'esprit is the witticism pure and simple, 
existing for its own sake, and detachable from its 
context — like the remark of one of the characters 
in * Lady Windermere's Fan ' : * I can resist every- 



ihuig — except temptation.' The mot de Htuation 
is the phrase which is funny solely because it is 
spoken at that particular moment in the settinn* 
forth of the story, like the ' What the devil was 
he doing in that galley? ' which is not laughter- 
provoking ia itself and apart from the incident 
calling it forth, but which arouses peals of merri- 
ment in its proper place in Moli^e's ' Scapin.' 
And the mot de caractire is the phrase which 
makes us laugh because it is the intense expression, 
at the moment, of the individuality of the person 
who speaks it — like the retort of the wife to her 
sister in the ' Comedy of Errors,' when she has been 
roundly abusing her husband. Luciana satirically 
comments that a man no better than this is no 
great loss to be bewailed. Whereupon Adriana, 
smiling through her tears, returns : ' Ah, but I 
think him better than I say — ' a line which gets its 
laugh, of course, but which lingers in the memory 
as a sudden revelation of the underlying character 
of the speaker." 

There are very few comic pieces which do not 
contain many examples of these three sorts of mot, 
and few other types of drama which fail to include 
mots de tituation. These are necessary; while 
mots de caractere are, though they may be inter- 
esting and amusing, and mot$ d'eaprit laughter- 
provoking, more or less in the nature of acces- 
sories. The least necessary of all are the mots 



d'eiprit: it is a regrettable fact that Oscar Wilde 
occasionall; marred scenes in his best comedies 
by introducing too many. The second act of 
" Lady Windermere's Fan," the first part of the 
third act of the same play, together with the first 
act of " A Woman of No Importance," are exam- 
ples of this. 

In the present play find examples of the three 
kinds of mots and determine which are the more 
necessary to the unity of the plot. Are there any 
superfluous mots: phrases, repartees, or epigrams 
which, if omitted, would in no manner mar the 
total effect? 

4). Study the " curtains " throughout. Is the 
rise of the action, the tension in plot, increased, 
crisis by crisis, as it is in Sudermann's " Magda " 
and Pinero's " The Second Mrs. Tanqueray," or 
is it apparently disjointed and sudden as in 
Becque's " The Crows " and Wedekind's " The 
Awakening of Spring "? 



Hnbert Henr^ Davies was bom hi 1869. He first 
entered the field of joumalism, and parsned his pro- 
fession in the United States for a number of years. 
Since 1899, when his firrt play, " A Dream of Love," 
was produced, until the present, he has enjoyed 
numerous successes. 

Davies possesses a fastidious sense of form and 
literary style in his comparatively few comedies. He 
is not an innovator, he is content to accept the con~ 
ventiona as applied to comedies of manners as be 
finds them, and not venture abroad in quest of new 
methods or new ideas. He is always pleasantly con- 
ventional, although in his best plays — " The Mollusc," 
" Mrs. Gorringe's Necklace," " Doormats," and 
" Captain Drew on Leave " — there is ever some orig- 
inal treatment of character, some interesting under- 
lying idea, " Doormats " sets forth the idea expressed 
by one of its personages: ". . . Some people have a 
genius for giving. Others a talent for taking. Yon 
can't not be whichever kind you are, any more 
than you can change your ses. You and I are amongst 
those who mutt give. . , . Doormats I always call 
them to myself." " Captain Drew on Leave " is more 
ambitious and conventional; it is the story of a good- 
hearted adventurer who falls in love with a married 
woman : he learns to value true affection, she to retnm 



to her hasband, a stronger and nobler woman. 
Davies comes as something of a relief from the rather 
stiff, if broader, plays of Pinero, and from the occa- 
sionally tiresome efforts to evolve s new style of 


A Dreau of Lote (]8d9). 
FiPTY Years Ago (1901). 
CocBiN Kate (1903). 

Performed, with Ethel Barrymore, at Daly's The- 
ater, New York IflOS. 
Mrs. Gobringe's Necklace (1903). 

Performed at the Lyceum Theater, New York 190*. 
Cynthia (190S). 

Performed at the Madison Square Theater, New 
York 1908. 
Captain Drew on Leave (1905). 
The Mollusc (1907). 

Performed at the Garrick Tbester, New York 1908. 
Lady Eppind's Lawsdit (1908). 
Bevis (1909). 
A Single Man (1910). 

Performed, with John Drew, at the Empire Thea- 
ter, New York 1911. 
Doormats (1912). 
Outcast (1914). 

Performed, with Elsie Ferguson, at the Lyceum 
Theater, New York 191*. 

"Cousin Kate," " Mrs. Gorringe's Necklace," " Cap- 
tain Drew OD Leave," " The Mollusc," " Lady 



Epping's Lawsuit," and " A Single Man " are pub- 
lished separately by Walter H. Baker, Boston. 

Rbferbnce: P. P. Howe, "Dramatic Portraits" 
(Kennerley). — Magastnei: North American, toI. cd 
(p. 85) ; Nem Republic, vol. i (p. S3); Bookman, vol. 
Dxiv (p. 243). 



A comedy in three acts. First performed in 1907. 

As a technical feat there are few plays in the realm 
of recent English drama so neatly balanced, so 
cciHtomical, as " The Mollnsc." It is nnqnestioaably, 
by reason of its dramatic reticence, its charming 
style and its delicately handled theme, Davies's mas- 

1. The Aristotelian Unities — Time, Place, and 
Action — are here as closely adhered to as in 
Charles Rann Kennedy's " The Servant in the 
House," and a good deal more so than in Shaw's 
" Getting Married." True, the time of the last 
act is one week later, but this is really a minor 
detail. The Place is " Mrs, Baxter's sitting- 
room," the Action, Tom's " education of a mol- 
lusc." The first act shows us the mollusc, the sec- 
ond the struggle between Tom and the mollusc 
and Tom's temporary defeat, the third, his ulti- 
mate victory. Nothing could be clearer or more 
succinctly stated. 

Compare the first act of this play with that of 
" The Second Mrs. Tanqueray." Could Pinero 
have learned anything about constructing a first 
act from Da vies? What? 
N 124 



!^. For the past twenty-live years or so, as has 
been said (p. 95), there is a tendency to lessen the 
number of characters in plays. The point has 
already been discussed, but it may be further re- 
marked that a true artist loves his limitations : that 
Davies took pleasure in restricting himself to the 
use of but four personages, that Letnaitre in " The 
Pardon " enjoyed the game of making only three 
carry the plot of a full-length play. This is vastly 
more difficult than it used to be. Many classical 
plays, from JSschylus to Sheridan, show a striking 
disregard for the time-scheme ; Shakspere was often 
notoriously neglectful in this respect : a character 
might enter a room or a street from nowhere and 
go nowhere, and might return in an impossibly 
short time. While it is of course necessary to ac- 
cept the convention of the foreshortening of time 
on the stage, we are unwilling — nowadays at least 
— to accept unmotivated and otherwise impossible 
entrances and exits. Now we require to know 
whence comes a character, how he happens to be 
where he is; if he leaves, his errand must be clear; 
if we are given to understand that he will return in 
half an hour, he must not come in two minutes 
later. (This, by the way, is the reason that on the 
stage very few clocks ever run.) In "The Mol- 
lusc,** the comings and goings of each person are 
satisfactorily accounted for. 



Work out the time-flcheme of " Macbeth " or 

3. Closely allied with the subject of time is the 
general consideration of character-motivation. 
Why do people behave a§ they do? In life and on 
the stage? The difference between a conventional 
dramatist and one who has something novel to 
say, is that in the first instance his characters 
act according to set ideas, or according as they 
have acted in other plays. A good dramatist will 
inform us exactly why A behaved as he did under 
the circumstances; a psychologist, like Francois 
de Curel or Ibsen, will delve still deeper and reveal 
hidden comers of human character from the intui- 
tion which is genius, or from first-hand knowledge. 
Dramatists like Shakspere will merely draw a syn- 
thetic picture of life : the characters are, they be- 
have as they do because they are what they are. 
In " Hamlet," the Prince reveals his thoughts and 
feelings in his speeches and his actions: he merely 
speaks his mind. If Hamlet were a conventional 
sort of man he would have killed his uncle; if 
** Hamlet " the play were a conventional play, the 
Prince would kill the murderer because the facts 
known to Hamlet would be sufficient to motivate 
the revenge. But Shakspere knew Hamlet's mind 
and revealed it to us through the character. 

If we are made to feel that Zoe Blundell's sui- 
cide is natural — that is, if the events which led up 



to it allowed her to do nothing else, she being what 
she was — then " Mid-Channel " is well-motivated ; 
if Cyrano's compliance with Roxane'g request that 
he protect her lover is in accordance with Cyrano's 
character, then that act on his part is well mo- 

Study the motivation in " The Mollusc," in 
Shaw's " Man and Superman," and in Jones's 
" The Liars." 



John GaUvorth; was bom at Coombe, Surrey, in 
1867. He received bis education first at Harrow, 
then at Oxford, from which be was graduated in 1889- 
His first intention was to practise law, and in 1890 he 
was called to the bar. He says: " I read in varioas 
cbambers, practised almost not at all, and disliked 
my profession thoroughly," Being in a position to 
do BO, he began to travel, and visited a number of 
countries in all parts of the world. Some time later 
he began to turn bb attention to writing, and in 1 899 
printed his first work, the novel " Jocelyn." This was 
followed by a short novel and a volume of short stories. 
Before the production of his first play he wrote four 
other novels; some of them — " The Country House " 
and " The Man of Property," for instance — ^must 
surely take rank among the finest literary achieve- 
ments of the age. Since 1906, the date of " The Silver 
Box," Galsworthy has prodnced in turn collections of 
essays, stories, novels, plays, and poems. 

Galsworthy is one of tbe sincerest and most straight- 
forward of writers ; literary, in the best sense of the 
word, clear, simple, and direct, he never fails to im- 
press his readers and his audience with the meaning 
and importance of the play or novel under considera- 
tion. He is humanitarian in the broadest sense of the 
word: he is more than a socialist or a reformer, he is 
a sympathetic artist. In his plays he assumes so fair 


A drama in three acts. First performed in 1909- 

In his essay, " Some Platitudes Concerning 
Drama " (in " The Inn of Tranquillity "), Gabworthy 
says: " A Drama mast be shaped so as to have a spire 
of meaning. Every grouping of life and character has 
its inherent moral ; and the business of the dramatist is 
80 to pose the group as to bring that moral poignantly 
to the light of day. Such is the moral that exhales 
from plays like ' Lear,' ' Hamlet,' and ' Macbeth.' " 
As " Strife " is a peculiarly apt illnstration of its 
author's theories as set forth in this essay, let ns in- 
quire into its structure, its dcTclopment, and its moraL 

1. " Strife " is an eminently fair and just ar- 
rangement of acts, facts, motives, and opinions, 
focusing up to " 8 spire of meaning," bearing upon 
the struggle between capital and labor, Gals- 
worthy's first care was to set before his aucUence a 
clear statement, without taking sides with one 
party or the other. He mentions in the essay 
above quoted three courses which are open to the 
dramatist: (1) to give the public what it wants; 

(2) to give it what he thinks it ought to have, and 

(3) '* to set before the public no cut-and-dried 




codes, biit the phenomena of life and character, 
selected and combined, but not distorted, by the 
dramatist's outlook, set down without fear, favor, 
or prejudice, leaving the public to draw such poor 
moral as nature maj afford. This third method 
requires a certain detachment; it requires a sym- 
pathy with, a love of, and a curiosity as to, things 
for their own sake ; it requires a far view, together 
with patient industry, for no immediately prac- 
tical result." 

2. That " certain detachment " is to be seen 
throughout " Strife." The dramatbt's " sympathy 
with . , . things for their own sake " is observed 
in the balance of the scenes. For example, wc are 
first made to see the representatives of capital, 
then Harness is introduced, and, a moment later, 
** the men." First the capitalists' side is heard, 
then the workingmen's. Within a few pages of the 
end of the act there is a deadlock between the con- 
tending parties ; then Enid is brought in. Enid 
presents another aspect of the question ; she, the 
daughter of Anthony, the head of the capitalists, 
may be termed the " human element." " We see aU 
the distress," she says. " You remember my maid 
Annie, who married Roberts? It's so wretched, 
her heart's weak ; since the strike began, she hasn't 
even been getting proper food." In the second act 
Enid is in the Roberts' cottage. Again the au- 
thor's detachment is evident: he does not senti- 



mentalize upon the workingmeD, any niore than he 
over-emphasizes the obduracy of the Board. If he 
feels that some human element is necessary, for the 
p sake of truth and dramatic contrast, he allovs the 
gentle and very human Enid (even the name is in- 
dicative of her character) to do the sentimentaliz- 
ing. And again Galsworthy the practical drama- 
tist follows the rules of Galsworthy the theorist; 
" The art of writing true dramatic dialogue is an 
austere art, denying itself all license, grudging 
every sentence devoted to the mere .machinery of 
the play, suppressing all jokes and epigrams sev- 
ered from character, relying for fun and pathos 
on the fun and tears of life. From start to finish 
good dialogue is hand-made, like good lace ; clear, 
of fine texture, furthering with each thread the 
harmony and strength of a design to which all 
must be subordinated." 

Throughout the first scene of the second act 
the characters of the people are laid bare with 
admirable clear-sightedness and detachment of 
vision. If the poor are in a bad condition, it is 
somewhat the fault of their pride and dogged 
tenacity. Madge Thomas's reply, " What suf- 
fering? . . . Who said there was suffering?" 
reveals a person much nearer to actual life than 
would that of a whining and humble woman. 

In brief, then, Galsworthy shows that if the 
rich are hard, they have a modicum of the milk 



of human kindness, and that if the poor are miser- 
able, thej are at times Btubbom and haughty. 

S. Further on in the same essay the author re- 
marks: " Now, true dramatic action is what char- 
acters do, at once contrary, as it were, to expecta- 
tion and yet because they have already done other 
things." Galsvortby means here that the drama- 
tist should not invent situations and adhere to a 
fixed plan when he is dealing with units which are 
intended to represent human beings. When, there- 
fore, a character acts " contrary, as it were, to ex- 
pectation," it is because we, the audience, do not 
know their true character. It is by means of unex- 
pected turns and the revelation of motives hitherto 
unknown to the audience, that a dramatist paints 
character: he unrolls it, and the personages de- 
velop. Again this author's wide sympathy with 
life urges him to state that it is pretty difficult to 
determine just what a human being tciB do next. 

Follow carefully the scenes in which Roberts, 
or any other of the principal characters, appears, 
bearing in mind the remarks above quoted. 

4, In " Strife," what is the " spire of mean- 
ing"? What is the "inherent moral"? Was 
Galsworthy more interested in the moral than the 
characters? Or did he wish merely to eshibit a 
certain " grouping of life and characters "? 



A fantasy in tbree acts. First performed in I9I2. 

In a iittle poem (" A Prayer ") Galsworthy, the 
poet, aaks that he may be given " to understand." All 
of Galsworthy's plays are evidently written by a man 
who wishes to dig beneath the surface, to learn to 
nnderstand and help others to do so. Togetlier with 
this view of life, the author's dramatic technic is in- 
timately bound up. We have already seen how a 
dramatist should hold himself somewhat aloof from 
life in order to see it fairly: " Strife " is the best of 
this dramatist's plays to exemplify his attitude and 
his workmanship. " The Pigeon," " a fantasy in con- 
ception and a realistic play in execution," in Gals- 
worthy's own words, is much less a cold expression 
of facts than " Strife." Its very theme is hnman 
charity. If one seeks some definite preachment of 
philanthropy — such as Brienx gave in " Les Bien- 
f aitenrs " — the play wUl puzzle : the author shows 
only a " grouping of life and character," and allows 
ns to seek out the " inherent moral." At the end, 
Wellwyn is as hopeless as he was at first, the flower- 
girl and her miserable companions are no nearer to a 
solution of the problem than before the curtain rose. 
Had Brieux or Hervien written the play they would 
nndoubtedly have offered some sort of moral, sug- 
gested some remedy; Galsworthy is content with 



affording us aovae insight into the thoughts and feel- 
ings of three hopeless waifs. 

1. The first act is a. work of art: Galsworthy 
never wrote a better act. The tag-end of a scene 
supposed to have passed just before the curtain 
rose, opens it ; then Wellwyn and his daughter are 
briefly introduced in a page or two. There is no 
" exposition " in the conventional sense of the 
word: the characters evolve through the medium 
of dialogue that is " spiritual action." There is 
no superfluous word : each syllable counts. This 
is truly " austere art." 

Take another passage from the author's theory : 
" The aim of the dramatist in employing it [nat- 
uralistic technic] is obviously to create such an il- 
lusion of actual life passing on the stage as to 
compel the spectator to pass through an experience 
of his own, to think, and talk, and move with the 
people he sees, thinking, talking, and moving in 
front of him. A false phrase, a single word out 
of tune or time, will destroy that illusion and spoil 
the surface as surely as a stone heaved into a still 
pond shatters the image seen there. . . . It is 
easy enough to reproduce the exact conversation 
and movements of persons in a room ; it is desper- 
ately hard to produce the perfectly natural con- 
versation and movements of those persons, when 
each natural phrase spoken and each natural move- 
ment made has not only to contribute toward the 



growth aod perfectiao of a drama's soul, but also 
to be a revelation, phrase by phrase, movement b; 
movement, of essential traits of character. To put 
it another way, naturalistic art, vhen alive, indeed 
to he alive at all, is simply the art of manipulating 
a procession of most delicate symbols.'* 

2. If the writer of "Strife" and "The 
Pigeon " has succeeded — and he has — in abiding 
bj his professed principles, it might be well to 
look into the validity of these principles. One final 
quotation: "We want no more bastard drama; 
no more attempts to dress out the simple dignity 
of everyday life in the peacock's feathers of false 
lyricism; no more straw-stufFed heroes or hero- 
ines; no more rabbits and goldfish from the con- 
jurer's pockets, nor any limelight. Let us have 
starlight, moonlight, sunlight, and the light of our 
own self-respects." Galsworthy, in a word, is the 
enemy of all that is false in the theater of " theatri- 
cality." In his plays, there is ever a conscious ef- 
fort to avoid effects, " big scenes," coDventional 
dialogue and situations. Galsworthy seems afraid 
of a " curtain " ; it has been aptly said of him that 
the " ' curtains ' seemed to hesitate to come down 
on anything that could possibly be mistaken for a 
climax." Yet it should be remembered that Gals- 
worthy, disgusted with the falsity and triviality 
of a vast amount of present-day drama, was forced 
into his austere and reticent attitude. He has at 



least shown that plays do DOt of necessitj have to 
be built according to time-worn formulas; he has 
also proved that one of the surest methods of ob- 
taining emphasis is — up to a certain point — to 
under-emphasize. Mrs. Jones's " Oh ! Sir ! " which 
closes " The Silver Box *' is an admirable example. 
If Galsworthy is an advocate of reticence he has 
been forced partly by circumstances to be so. 

In " The Pigeon " notice bow the " curtains " 
are managed. What elements of the usual " well- 
made play " are observable in these P Compare 
the second act of this play — as to its plot develop- 
ment — with the second act of *' Candida." 

3. In his book on " The Future of the Theater ** 
John Palmer states: "Their [the characters in 
Galsworthy's plays] merit consists in all the com- 
monplaces they do not utter, in all the obvious 
things they do not do, in all the fine speeches 
they do not make. In ' The Eldest Son ' Freda 
says ' Oh, Bill ! ' and Bill makes the three follow- 
ing speeches: (1) 'Freda!'; (2) 'Good Godt'; 
(3) * By Jove! This is ' Whereupon the cur- 
tain saves him from committing his author any 
further. These are tactics of masterly inactivity. 
The scene is suggested by the players; and the 
audience supplies the emotion. Mr. Galsworthy 
has done nothing, except to suggest very clearly 
that he has avoided doing anything wrong." The 
last sentence here is an evident exaggeration, but 



hov much of the entire criticism applies to 
"Strife" and "The Pigeon"? Has Galsworthy 
in detaching himself, in his attempt to be scrupu- 
lously exact and fair in his presentation of the 
^ouping of life he chose to exhibit, gone too far, 
stood too far aloof, and lost that personal element, 
that touch of humanity, without which no art can 

4. The following letter to the writer touching 
upon the play now under consideration, may 
throw some light on the " fantastic " element : 
"... About those dates in ' The Pigeon.' 
Christmas Eve because of Ferrand's remark : ' HE 
is come. Monsieur ! ' and the general tenor of 
Wellwyn's acceptance of every kind of outcast. 
New Year's Day because of Ferrand's remark: 
' 'Appy New Year ! ' which marks the disappear- 
ance of casual charity in favor of Institutionalism, 
of the era of outcasts in favor of the era of re- 
formers. April 1st because of the joke at the end 
on the Humblemen which symbolizes the fact, or 
rather the essence, of the play, that, while Well- 
Wyn (representing sympathy and understanding) 
is being * plucked * all through the play, be comes 
out and knows he does, on top at the end, as the 
only possible helper of the unhelpable." The 
author maliciously adds: " I hope this is sufficiently 
obscure ! " 



John Masefield was bom at Ledbnry, England. At 
the age of fourteen be ran away from home and went 
to flea. For a number of years he wandered from 
land to land, spending part of the time in the United 
States. Returning to England, he devoted bis time 
to the writing of poems, novels, stories, and a few 
playa. In 1912 he won the Edmond de Foliguac prise 
for bis " Everlasting Mercy," Since that time, he 
has enjoyed the success and popular!^ which has so 
long been denied him. 

Masefield's principal contribation to modern litera- 
ture are his vigorous and original narrative poems — 
" The Everlasting Mercy," " The Widow in the Bye- 
Street," and " Dauber " — in which his sense of the 
tragic and the beautiful find their expression. Some- 
thing of this is observable in his shorter poems, and 
in bis novels, especially " The Street of To-day " and 
" Multitude and Solitude," and in bis play, " The 
Tragedy of Nan." " Nan " comes as near to tme 
tragedy as any English play of recent years. It is a 
play of remarkable power and beauty as regards con- 
ception and style ; it is the work of a true poet. The 
author's belief that tragedy should be a vision of the 
heart of life is home out in " Nan " with pitiless 
cruelty. Masefield's originality precludes to a cer- 



tain extent the qneation of influencea, but it might be 
well to SDggest that bis friend Synge had something 
to do with his stjie, and to draw a parallel between 
the love-scene in the second act of " Nan " and that 
in the l&st act of " The Playboy of the Western 
World." Masefield's other plays, " Mrs. Harrison " 
and " The Campden Wonder/' more or less in the 
style of " Nan," and bis historical poems, " Philip 
the King " and " The Tragedy of Pompey the Great," 
have only a relative stage value, although they are 
full of striking lines, good scenes, and vigorous poetic 


The Campdbh Wondkr (1907). 
Tkb Traobdt of Nam (1908). 

Performed by the Gaiety Theater Company in 
Boston 1911. 
Mrs. Harrison (1909). 
Thi Traoedt of Pompky the Grbat (1910). 
Philip the Kino (191*). 

There is besides an adaptation of " The Witch," un- 
published, from the Norwegian of Wiers Jennssen, 

References: John Galsworthy, " The Inn of Tran- 
quillity" (Scribner); C. E. Montague, "Dramatic 
Values" (Macmillan); John Masefield, Preface to 
(new edition of) "Nan."' — Magastnen Atkenaum, 
Nov. IS, 1909; Dial. Dec. 16, IfllO; Bookman, vol. 
xxziii (p. 58*) ; Current Literature, vol. lii (p. 710), 



TOl. liii (p. 457) ; Suneg. vol. xxri (p. 707) ; Znde- 
pendent, vol. Uzii (p. 1198), vol. IxxUi (p. SSS); 
laving Age, toI. cchxiv (p, 778), vol cclxxz (p. 410) ; 
Atlantic, vol. cxi (p. 489) ; North American, vol. cxcvili 
(p. S79); TaU Remew vol. ii (p. 960). 



A play in three acts. First performed in 1908. 

" Tragedy," says Masefield in a note prefixed to a 
late edition of this play, " at its beat is a vision of the 
heart of life. The heart of life can only be laid bare 
in the agony and exaltation of dreadful acts. The 
vision of agony, or spiritual contest, pushed beyond 
the limits of dying personality, is exalting and 
cleansing. It is only by such vision that a multitude 
cant be brought to the passionate knowledge of things 
exalting and eternal." " The Tragedy of Nan " is an 
attempt " towards the achieving of that power " which 
" helps the genius of a race to obtain it, though the 
obtaining may be fifty years after the strivers are 

1. The above quotation indicates a different 
conception of tragedy from the one usually set 
forth. The exalting and cleansing element is 
Greek; the " passionate knowledge of things exalt- 
ing and eternal " with the insistence on " dreadful 
acts " as a necessary premise to the laying bare of 
the heart of life is in a manner Masefield's own 
twist to a well-known theory. The story of 
" CEdipus " is a series of " dreadful acta," but the 
difference lies in Masefield's belief that the audi- 



ence should tee these acts. In ** Hamlet " and 
** Macbeth " they are usually relegated to the 
background. Possibly this new idea is a conces- 
sion to the lack of imagination of modem audi- 
ences, who have become too well accustomed to 
realistic plays? In any event, this poet insists 
upon showing us the horrible scene where Nan 
forces Jenny to eat the tainted mutton pie. 

What is gained through this procedure? How 
far has the dramatist adhered to his principles in 
this play? 

8. As art is a synthesizing of life, all that is 
unessential must be omitted in order that the 
typical, the characteristic, may be brought into 
emphatic relief. In a play, where the incidents 
are supposed to cover a space of many hours, 
many days, or many years, the incidents which the 
dramatist chooses must be condensed into some- 
thing less than two hours: he cannot waste a word 
or a gesture. This necessitates an acceptance on 
the part of the audience of the convention of 
foreshortening: that is, incidents, psychological 
changes, development of character, occupy much 
less time on the stage than they would in life. An 
hour may be easily assumed to pass in ten min- 
utes: in a moment a character reaches a decision 
which in life might take him days or months to 
reach; young men and women fall in love at first 
sight with little or no regard to verisimilitude. 



Needless to say, there must be sufficient motivation 
to account for these sudden changes, or the audi- 
ence will refuse to enter into the dramatist's pact. 
In Shakspere's " Richard III," the Queen, who is 
accompanying ber husband's bier to the church, 
is met bj Richard, her husband's known murderer, 
is wooed in less than ten minutes — successfully 
wooed. This is too great a strain upon the credu- 
lity of the audience, in spite of the fact that the 
play is obviously melodrama. In Ibsen's " DoU's 
House," Nora's change of mind covers less than 
a week, but Ibsen takes good care to support her 
final act with credible motivation. 

In " Nan " is Dick's change of heart sufficiently 
motivated P Notice what reasons the dramatist 
sets forth ; that is his defense, as it were. Still, is 
his change acceptable? 

3. The last act in a play is usually the shortest. 
The reason for this is that the climax, which is in 
ninety-nine cases out of a hundred at the end of 
the penultimate act, brings the play to its highest 
pitch of interest and suspense, and there remains 
little to be accomplished in the last. Dinouement 
is not so interesting as a rule as development. 
Many plays fail because of an uninteresting or 
anti-climactic final act. It is the business of the 
dramatist to hold over some absorbing revelation, 
or some long-awaited turn of affairs, in order 
that his audience may await with impatience the 



last rise of the curtain. In W. C. De Mille'a " The 
Woman," this has been very skilfully accomplished. 

How has Masefield succeeded? His last act is 
the longest in the play. What does he do to make 
it interesting? 

It is well to ask one's self, as the curtain is 
falling on the penultimate act of a play, whether 
there is much more worth waiting forP 



Stanley Houghton was born at Asbton-npon-Mersey, 
in 1881. In 1897 be entered bis father's office in 
Manchester, where he worked until 1912> as a sales- 
man. The success of the production of " Hindle 
Wakes " that year led him to forsake the security 
of business for the uncertainties of a dramatist's exist- 
ence. In 19I8 be went to Paris, fell ill, recovered, 
returned to London in June. On hia return to Paris, 
on the way to Venice, he fell ill again. After an 
attack of influenza and appendicitis, in Italy, he was 
brought to Manchester, where, in December, he died. 

At the time of bis death Houghton was one of the 
most promising of the younger generation of British 
dramatists. While it is true that " Hindle Wakes " 
is his finest achievement, fais other plays — " Inde- 
pendent Means " and " The Younger Generation " 
especially — are by no means negligible. Houghton 
was seeking for liberty of thought, rather than liberty 
of dramatic form, but he never distorted that form 
for the sake of the idea. He had a distinct sense of 
the theater, a remarkable gift for dialogue, and keen 
insight into human character. 

Thb Deab Departed (1908). 
iNDKPENnENT Means (1909). 



The Master or the House (1910). 
The Yodnoeb Genxbation (1910). 

Performed in New York 1918. 
Fancy Fbee (1911). 
Kindle Wakes (1913). 

Performed in New York 1912, and on lonr 19I8. 

Phippi (igis). 

Performed at the Princess Theater, New York 1914- 
Tux PbrfxctCubx (igiS). 
Tbk Fifth Cohuaitdubnt (191S). 

Performed at the Little Theater, Chicago 1913. 
Trust the People (igiS). 

Not published. 

A number of short and slight plays, unpublished, 
were prodnced by amateurs. " Marriages in the 
Making " was never produced. 

" Hindle Wakes " is published hy Lnce, Boston. 
Houghton's collected works, in three volumes, are 
published by Constable, London. " Independent 
Means " and " The Younger Generation " and " Five 
One-act Plays " are published by Samuel French. 

RxxxRENCEs: Introduction to the collected works; 
John Palmer, " The Future of the Theater " (Bell, 
London). — Magazinet: Bookman, vol. xxxvi (p. 611) ; 
Mancketter Playgoer, vol. ii. No. 1 ; Manchetier Quar- 
terly, vol. xxxiii (p. SIS) ; Living Age, vol. cclxxx (p. 
418) ; McClare't, voL xl (p. 69). 



A play in three acts. First performed in 1912. 

" Hindle Wakes " is one of the few plays of con- 
spicuous merit which have come from the younger 
group of British dramatists. This play is original by 
reason of its theme (the same, by the way, as that 
treated in St. John Ervine's " The Magnanimous 
Ix)ver " and Galsworthy's " The Eldest Son "), its: 
telling dialogue, and its construction. The characters 
are well drawn, lifelike, thoroughly human, 

1. It is only by comparison with such plays as 
" Sweet Lavender " that one can appreciate the 
immense advance made in dialogue in this play. 
The early Pinero play was considerably influenced 
by the very stilted style of Robertson and H. J. 
Byron; still, it purported to be realistic in treat- 
ment. Read the first five pages of " Sweet Lav- 
ender," then the first five of " Hindle Wakes." 
Then read the first five of "The Second Mrs. 
Tanqueray," which is intended to be still closer 
to " real life," and then read five more of the 
Houghton play. Again, read a scene from " The 
Thunderbolt" (Pinero), one of the few frankly 
realistic pictures of English middle-class society 
which Finer o has attempted, and read another 



scene from " Hindle Wakes." Pinero cannot 
escape from the shackles of his predecessors; 
Houghton came to the theater with a fresh out- 
look on life, and few ideas about the " literary " 
style of dialogue. 

Bearing in mind Henrj Arthur Jones's remarks 
(pp. 4S-3) on literature and the stage, determine 
in what respects this play is literature. 

2. " Hindle Wakes," besides being a " slice of 
life " and an interesting story, is a " thesis play." 
This does not mean that the author wrote it solely 
to exploit an idea, or that he was so interested in 
the moral that he neglected any means to make the 
play an interesting spectacle : the idea serves only 
to increase the interest. Up to the very last of 
the play (p. 97, Luce edition) the author's solution 
is not made clear. This was Ibsen's method in the 
" Doll's House," where, up to the middle of the 
last act, Nora's sudden resolution was not hinted 
at. It is likely that if these dramatists had been 
more interested in the propagandist side of their 
work they would doubtless have foreshadowed the 
end earlier in the play: their enthusiasm would 
have led them into argument and discussion far 
before the end. But both Ibsen and Houghton 
allowed their plays to develop naturally up to 
what in a conventional play would have been the 
beginning of the usual end, and then — by a sudden 
turn— changed the whole denouement. 



What indications are there that Houghton was 
less concerned than Ibsen with the idea, as distinct 
from the plaj as a dramatic entertaimmentP Does 
Houghton adopt a moral attitude? An immoral 

3. What is the advantage of dividing the first 
act into three scenes? Is there any necessity for 
combining these three parts into one act? Why 
could the author not have made each of these into 
a separate act? Why did he not divide the second 
and third acts into scenes? 

i. In any thesis play there is a danger that 
characters speak a good deal more logically and 
with much more penetration than they would in 
life: the dramatist puts his own arguments into 
their mouths, and consequently distorts them as 
characters. What would ordinarily be the logic 
of their actions he often makes them reason out in 
a way which would be out of the question in any 
other place. The logical explanation of Fanny's 
conduct occurs in the last scene of this play 
(pp. 97-104). Notice the following dialogue. 

Alan. — . . . you'd damage my prospects, and all 
that sort of thing. Yon can see that, can't yon? 

Fanny. — Ay! I can see it now yon point it ont 
I hadn't thought of it before. 

Alan. — Then, that isn't why you refused me? 

Fating. — Sorry to disappoint yon, but it's not- 

Alan. — I didn't see what else it conld be. 



Fanny. — Don't kid yourself, my lad! It isn't be- 
cause I'm afraid of spoiling your life that I'm refusing 
yon, but becanse I'm afraid of spoiling mine/ That 
didn't occur to you? 

^fon.— It didn't. 

Fanny. — You never thoaght that anybody else could 
be as selfish as yourself. 

Alan. — I may be very conceited, but I don't see how 
yoQ can hurt yourself by wedding me. Yoo'd come in 
for plenty of brass, anyhow. 

Fanny. — I don't know as money's much to go by 
when it comes to a job of this sort. It's more impor- 
tant to get the right chap. 

^lan. — You like me well enough? 

Fanny. — Suppose it didn't last? Weddings brought 
about this road have a knack of turning out badly. 
Would yoo ever forget it was your father bade you 
marry me ? No fear ! You'd bear me a gmdge all my 
life for that. 

And again, 

dlan. — But yoa didn't ever really love me? 

Fanny. — Love yon? Good Heavens, of course not! 
Why on earth should I love yoa? You were just 
some one to have a bit of fun with. Yon were an 
amusement — a lark. 

Alan {thocked). — Fanny! Is that all you cared for 

Fanny. — How much more did you care for me? 

Alati. — But it's not the same. I'm a man. 

Fanny. — You're a man, and I was your little fancy. 



Well, I'm a woman, and j(ou were my little fancy. 
You wouldn't prevent a woman enjoying herself as 
'well as a man, if she takes it into her head? 

Alan. — But do you mean to say that yon didn't care 
any more for me than a fellow cares for any girl he 
happens to pick up? 

Fanny. — Yes. Are you shocked? 

Alan.— It's a bit thick; it is really! 

Fanny. — ^You're a beauty to talk! 

Alan. — It sounds so jolly immoral. I never thought 

' of a girl looking on a chap just like that! I made sure 

you. wanted to marry me if you got the chance. . . . 

Is the dramatist forcing his characters (Fanny 
especially) to give utterance to ideas which they 
would scarcely be able to formulate, merely in 
order that the theme may be clear? 

How fat has an author the right to do this? 



Kstherine Gitba Sowerb; (Mrs. John Kendall), 
daughter of John Sowerby, the artist, was bom iii 
Newcastle in Northumberland. In this vicinity she 
spent the early years of her life. Her first literary ven- 
tures were short stories for magazines and a nnmber 
of books for children. Her first play, " Rutherford 
and Son," was produced at the Court Theater, in 1912, 
and was followed by a curtain-raiser, " Before Break- 

Githa Sowerby's one important play is among the 
most powerful works of the younger generation. It 
is representative of that group of plays which treats 
of the relation of parents and children — like " The 
Voysey Inheritance," " Hindle Wakes," " The 
Yotinger Generation," and " Milestones." This first 
attempt* of a young author is the more remarkable 

•In a letter to the author (Sept. 32, I9I4) she writes: 
"'Rntherford and Son' was originally produced at the 
Court Theater in London for four matin^s. It was then 
put up for a run at the Little Theater and moved on to 
the Vaudeville. In December of the same year Mr. Ames 
produced It at the Little Theater, New York, and it has 
since been on at Stockholm and Munich. It has been 
translated Into nearly all European langua^s and should 
have been produced in Paris, St. Petersburg, and various 
other foreign towns about this time, but the war prevented 
or postponed this. . . . My first efforts were short stories 
for magadnes and a number of books for children, prin- 



when it is learned that the writer bad practically no 
experience or knowledge of dramatic technic, and en- 
tered the field of drama from that of fiction. 



Performed at the Little Theater, New York 1912- 
Before Breakfast (1912). 

Reference: Clayton Hamilton, "Studies in Stage- 
craft" (Holt).— Mfljasine." Bookman, yoI. sxxvi (p. 

cipally in verse. ... I don't know what made me think of 
writing a play. I had no experience of the stage and no 
knowledge of plays or players beyond what can be gained 
by seeing plays. But writing both prose and verse was diffi- 
cult and irksome to me, so I began ' Rutherford and 
Son.' I wrote it over a period of two years in my spare 
time as an experiment, with no hope whatever of Its being 
produced. I wrote two acts, thought it was no good, and 
threw it aside — then a friend happened to read it, and 
urged me to finish it, wiiieb I did. . . ." 



A play in three acts. Firat performed in igiS. 

It is only of late years that the " family drama ** 
has TcceiTcd fall and adequate treatment in England. 
For many years Pinero and Jones and Wilde were 
content to limit themselves almost exclusively to the 
" drawing-room " play, which they brought to a point 
whence farther development seemed impossible. The 
younger dramatists, Galsworthy, Barker, Miss Baker, 
Miss Sowerby, Stanley Houghton, and others, model- 
ing perhaps upon the plays of Ibseo, and cer- 
tainly striving for greater freedom in subject-matter, 
went to the middle and lower classes for their inspira- 
tion, and produced works which differ radically from 
the " Mrs. Tanqnerays " and " Mrs. Danes " of the 
former generation. " Rutherford and Son " is one of 
the most striking examples of the new schooL It is, 
perhaps, a little too extreme, possibly over-emphasised, 
but its dramatic power is incontestable. 

1. The "pathetic fallacy" in drama is un- 
usually common. It is an easy and very obvious 
dramatic expedient. First acts of tragedies or 
serious plays of any kind often contain forebod- 
ings of the coming crisis. Random examples of 
this are " Macbeth," " Riders to the Sea," and 



" Brand." In each of these plays the weather out- 
side serves as a striking background for the action. 

In " Rutherford and Son " the stage-directions 
and the dialogue make us aware of the season : ** On 
thii particular evening in December," etc. (p. 8), 
and, in the course of the opening scene, such lines 
as " I wonder what it's like here when the sun 
shines ! " and " It doesn't look as if the summer 
ever came here," go far to create an atmosphere 
of gloom. 

In this first act is the creation of atmosphere 
and local color too ohvious? How far may a 
dramatbt legitimately call in the aid of natural 
phenomena, in order to help the action of his 

i. The struggle, the clash of character upon 
character which is one of the essentials of drama, 
is introduced in the first act in an unusual fashion. 
As a rule, the struggle is " exposed," or talked 
about, early in the first act, then, later in that act, 
or in the second, the clash actually begins. As a 
matter of fact, the struggle in " Rutherford and 
Son " is so vividly laid before the audience in the 
first few pages, and especially in the scene between 
Mary and young Rutherford, that it may be said 
actually to have begun before the entrance of old 
John Rutherford. So domineering and strong is 
the old man's will, so plain are the results of its 
exercise, that it stands before us, needing for 



the time being, no further illustration. Then 
Richard enters (p. 95): 

^nn. — . . . If he hadn't gone to the bank hoir 
would Rathcrfords' ha' gone on? 

John. — . . . Why should it go on? 

AKn (iharpls).— What' a that? 

John. — Why didn't he sell the place when he could 
have made a decent profit? 

Ann (icandatised). — Sell Rutherf ords' ? Just let 
your father hear you. 

John. — I don't care if he does. I never can imagine 
why he hangs on — working his soul out year after 

Ann (conclutivelg). — It's his duty, . . . 

John. — Duty— rot! He likes it. He's gone on too 
long. He conldn't stop and rest if he tried. When 
I make a few thousands out of this little idea of mine 
I'm going to have everything I want, and forget all 
about the dirt and the ugliness, the clatter and bang 
of the machinery, the sickening hot smell of the fur- 
naces — all the things I've hated from my soul. 

Already, and before old John Rutherford appears, 
the struggle has begun. 

Compare the beginning of this parents-and- 
children struggle with that in Sudermann's 
" Magda " and Granville Barker's " The Vojsej 

3. A strike in the background serves to bring 
out tbe character of the various personages in the 



play. Compare the treatment and relative impor- 
tance of the strike in this play and in Galsworthy's 
** Strife." Was Galsworthy interested in the strike 
more as a social phenomenon or only as a means 
of drawing characters', who are set in motion by 
the strike? What use; has Miss Sowerhy made of 
the strike? 

i. Study the constriiction of the second act. In 
what way is the actioA brought to a climax? Is 
this act in accordance with the formula of the well- 
made play? 

Is the incident of Martin and Janet pertinent 
to the main idea? What is its dramatic reason for 
being? Could it have been omitted without harm- 
ing the play as a whole? 

S. Does young John's speech (p. 30) about 
Moloch seem out of place? That is, does the old- 
fashioned " raisonneur " method of exposing ideas 
harmonize with the decidedly realistic tone? 



Elisabeth Baker was bom in London. Starting her 
life as a cashier, she learned shorthand and typewrit- 
ing and before long became a stenographer. At pres- 
ent she is a private secretary, and writes plays in her 
leiaore hoars. Her first play — "Beastly Pride," a 
riiort trifle, was produced at the Croyden Repertory 
Theater, and was so well received that Miss Baker 
was enconraged to write a full-length play. This was 
" Chains," produced first by the Play Actors, then 
at Charles Frohman's Repertory Theater (Dute of 
York's), and has since been seen at most of the reper- 
tory theaters of Great Britain. An adaptation was 
played in New York. " The Price of Thomas Scott " 
was produced by Miss Homiman's Company in Lon- 
don and Manchester in IdlS. 

Like Miss Sowerby, Miss Baker was an amateur — 
in the true sense: she wrote plays because she liked 
to write them, with litUe or no hope of their being 
professionally produced. Both these women have gone 
to everyday life for their material, both have cared 
and dared to write about dull, ordinary people. In 
Miss Baker's case this is especially true. " Chains " 
is the simple picture of the clerk class, pathetic and 
dispassionate. Her sincerity, her simplicity, her 
power of analysis, her penetration, entitle her to a 



place among the very few writers in England to-daj 
ivhose vork is sincere and significant. 


BzASTLT Phide (1907). 
Chains (1909). 

Performed, in adapted form, at the Criterion The- 
ater, New York 1918- 
Miss Tassxt (1910). 
Cdfid IK Claphah (I9IO). 
Edith (I9I2). 
The Prick of Thomas Scott (19I8). 

" Chains " is published by Luce; " Miss Tassey " by 
Sidgwick and Jackson (London); "The Price of 
Thomas Scott " by the same. 

Reference: William Archer, " Playmaking " 
(Small, Maynard). — Magaeme: Bookman, vol. xxxvi 
(p. 640), vol. xxxii (p. 136). 


A play io four acts. First performed in 1909- 

Nothing can make clearer the great gnlf between 
the drama of to-day and the drama of yesterday than 
a comparison of a Pinero play with " Chains." Miss 
Baker's qaiet anpretentioaa picture is the direct an- 
tithesis to the color, movement, and intrigue of " The 
Gay Lord Quex." If Pinero was limited, as to t«chnic 
as well as to idea, so is Miss Baker, but each has 
fulfilled an important function: Pinero brought the 
artificial comedy of his predecessors to its height, 
while Miss Baker has broadened the field of dramatic 

1. In William Archer's "Haymaking" (pp. 
4>8-9) the author, in speaking of what is dramatic 
and what undramatic, refers to the present play: 

" We have already seen, indeed, that in a cer- 
tain type of play — the broad picture of a social 
phenomenon or environment — it is preferable that 
no attempt should be made to depict a marked 
crisis. There should be just enough story to 
afll^ord a plausible excuse for raising and for lower- 
ing the curtain. . . . As a specimen, and a suc- 
cessful specimen, of this new technic, I may cite 
Miss Elizabeth Baker's ver; interesting plftjf 



* Chains.* There is absolutely do ' story ' in it, do 
complication of incidents, not even any emotional 
tension worth speaking of. ... A city clerk, 
oppressed by the deadly monotony and narrowness 
of his life, thinks of going to Australia — and 
doesn't go: that is the sum and substance of the 
action. Also, by way of underplot, a shopgirl, 
oppressed by the deadly monotony and narrowness 
of her life, J^inks of escaping it by marrying a 
middle-aged widower — and doesn't do it. If any 
one had told the late Francisque Sarcey or the late 
Clement Scott, that a play could be made out of 
this slender material, which should hold an audi- 
ence absorbed through four acts, and stir them to 
real enthusiasm, these eminent critics would have 
thought him a madman. Yet Miss Baker has 
achieved this feat, by the simple process of sup- 
plementing competent observation with a fair 
share of dramatic instinct." 

Exactly what does the dramatist supply in 
place of the usual dramatic clash? Does the strug- 
gle take place entirely within the minds of the 
characters!' Is "Chains" in any way a "well- 
made" play? How? 

% The Russian dramatist AndreyefF is another 
who believes that external incidents — " action " — 
are not necessary for a play. In his " Letter on 
the Theater " (quoted in the introduction to the 
Scribner volume of translations) he asks the ques- 



tion: "Is action, in the accepted sense of move- 
ments and visible achievements on the stage, neces- 
sary to the theaterP " AndreyefPs plays for the 
greater part depict mental and spiritual struggles, 
but Andreyeff makes use of soliloquy and even has 
recourse to the Deu» ex macliina device of the an- 
cients, by using such characters as " The Being in 
Grey" (in "The Life of Man") to explain the 
thoughts of his characters. Miss Baker, who 
doubtless has no definite theories, however, allows 
her simple and eminently human characters to 
work out their own destiny, without the aid of 
outside explanation. 

Compare the " static " plays, " The Intruder " 
of Maeterlinck and " The Life of Man " of 
Andreyeff, with " Chains." 



Sir James Barrie was born at Kirriemuir in IS60. 
Receiving his education at Dumfries and Edinburgh 
University, he turned to journalism, pursuing his work 
first at Nottingham and later in London. Altfaoogh he 
began the writing of novels and sketches at an early 
age, bis plays were written contemporaneously, the 
first appearing in I89I- 

Barrie is a novelist whose best plays show nothing 
of the methods of the novelist; he is more successful 
in this respect than his nearest competitor, Gals- 
worthy. He is a bom novelist and a born dramatist, 
the rarest of combinations. That same charm which 
emanates from " Sentimental Tommy " and " The 
Little Minister " has been carried over into " Peter 
Pan " and " What Every Woman Slnows." With an 
unerring sense of true and fitting dramatic style, a 
charming sensibility, a knowledge of the devices of 
dramatic technie, Barrie writes plays which are sure 
to outlast the great mass of plays of the day. 

Bbckt Sharp (1891). 
Ibbkh'b Ghost (1891). 
RicHARn Savage (1891). 
Walkib, London (1892). 

Performed at the Herald Square Theater, Kev 
York 1894. 




Jahx An-nie (1893). 

Thx Frofeibor's Love Stort (1894). 

Performed at the Star Theater, New York 1894. 
The Little Minister (1897). 

Performed by Maude Adams on tour 1S97 and 
The Wedding Goest (1900). 
Quality Street (1903). 

Performed by Mande Adams on tour 1903. Re- 
vived at Empire Theater, New York 1913. 
The Aduibablb Crichton (190S). 

Performed, with William Gillette, at the Lyceom 
Theater, New York 1904. 
Little Mart (1908)- 

Performed at the Empire Theater, New York 1904. 
Peter Pan (1904). 

Performed by Maude Adams on tour I9O6 and in 
revival 1913- 
Pantaloon (1905). 

Performed at the Criterion Theater, New York 
Alice-Sit-bt^he-Fire (1905). 

Performed by Ethel Barrymore on toor 1903-B. 
JoBEPHiNB (1906). 
Punch (1906). 
What Every Woman Knows (1908). 

Performed by Maude Adams at the Empire Theater, 
New York 1906 and on tour. 
Old Friends (191O). 
The Twelve-pound Look (1910). 

Performed by Ethel Barrymore on tonr I91I-2. 



A Slice of Life (1910). 

Performed by Ethel Barrymore at the Empire The- 
ater, New York 1912. 
Rosalind (1912). 
Thk Legend OF Lbonora (I9I3). 

Performed by Maude Adams on tour 1913-4. 
Thb Will (1913). 

Performed in New York IpW. 
"Der Tag," or The Tragic Man (1914). 

" Walker, London " is published by Samuel French; 
" Qualify Street " and " The Admirable Crichton " 
by Doran ; " The Twelve-pound Look," " Pantaloon," 
" Rosalind," and " The Will " in a volume called 
"Half-Hours," by Scribner; " Der Tag" by same 

(As " The Admirable Crichton," Barrie's best pub- 
lished play, is obtainable only in a $3.00 Litton de 
luxe, two of the short plays are here selected for 

References: P. P. Howe, "Dramatic Portraits" 
(Kennerley) and "The Repertory Theater" (Ken- 
nerley) ; William Archer, " Playmaking " (Small, 
Maynard); Brander Matthews, "A Study of the 
Drama " (Houghton Mifflin) ; A< B. Walkley, 
" Drama and Life " (Brentano). — Magasinet: Har- 
per'i Weekly, vol. 1 (p. 272) ; Fortnightly, vol. Ijcxxt 
(p. 920) ; Critic, vol. xlviii (p. 334) ; Current Litera- 
ture, vol. xl (p. 409), vol. il (p. 524) ; Forum, vol. xU 
(p. 137); Bookman, vol. Mxii (p. 308), vol, xxsviii 
(p. 263) ; Literary Digett, vol. xlix (p. 643) ; Century, 
vol. Ixxxviii (p. 801). 



A play in one act. First performed in 1905. 

Thia fantasy ia very different in spirit from " The 
Twelve-pound Look," altboagh the technic, the charm- 
ing stage-directions, the ever-present Barrie charm, 
bring the two into dose relation. 

1. The stage-directions are much fuller than 
those in " The Twelve-pound Look." This little 
fairy-tale must have a more elaborate setting, and 
the author spares no pains to make us well ac- 
quainted with all the facts. So full are these direc- 
tions, that the play is practically a story, yet, 
in spite of this, the piece is more charming and 
effective as a stage piece than it would be as a 
short story. There are no irrelevaneies. 

Barjie feels so kindly toward his audience that 
he wishes to establish an intimate rapport with 
them. In " Peter Pan," Peter at one place comes 
forward to the public and begs them to applaud. 
(In principle this is the vaudeville method of 
establishing relations between the stage and " the 
house"). In "Pantaloon" Barrie repeats the 
trick. On page 16 Pantaloon says : " But you do 
think me funny, don't you, Fairy? Neither of you 



can look at me without laughing, can youP Try, 
Boy; try, Fairy. {They try, but fail. He U 
moved.) Thank you both, thank jou kindly. If 
the public only knew how anxiously we listen for 
the laugh they would be less grudging of it.'* 
These words are, of course, put into the mouth of 
an old actor, hut the device is none the less a per- 
sonal touch of the dramatist's, introduced for the 
purpose above referred to. 

2. In the same volume with " Pantaloon " and 
" The Twelve-pound Look " is another one-act 
play, "The Will." This is divided into three 
scenes. Does the technic of this last play differ 
widely from that of the other two — the present 
and the one about to be considered? 



A p1&7 in one act. First performed in igiO. 

Perhaps tbe best way to test the ability of the novel- 
ist who is at the same time a dramatist is to ask 
whether a certain play is better as a drama than it 
would be as a novel or a story. " The Twelve-ponnd 
Look " might have been a story, but it is assuredly 
better as a play, because the dramatist has by means - 
of externals, aa a result of his own process of visual- 
isation, made points which could not have been so 
effectively made had the story been cast into narra- 
tive forni. This is his justification. This little piece 
is not a novelized story : it is a play. 

1. The question of stage-directions in modern 
plays is an interesting and a curious one. Bernard 
Shaw went far to incorporate long and detailed 
descriptions not only of settings but of states of 
mind; he added irrelevant suggestions and ex- 
planations, occasionallj, it must be admitted, quite 
outside the province of the mere dramatist. 

Until very recently, Barrie has refused to print 
his plays ; one reason for this was that, since they 
were written to be produced, much of the charm 
and atmosphere would be lost if the dialogue were 
reduced to cold type. Finally, however, he has 



found a way of creating this necessary atmos- 
phere : the stage-directions in his few printed plays 
supply the much-feared deficiency, and it is to be 
doubted whether the imaginative reader loses much 
by not seeing the plays on the stage. Because of 
their whimsical charm, their personal intimacy, and 
literary merit, the stage-directions of Barrie sur- 
pass those of Shaw and Barker. Take, for ex- 
ample, the opening of " The Admirable Crichton " : 

A moment before the curtain rises the Hon. Ernest 
Woolley drives up to the door of Loam House in 
Mayfair. There is a happy smile on his pleasant, 
insignificant face, which presumably means that he is 
thinking of himself. He is too busy over nothing, 
this man about town, to be always thinking of himself, 
but, on the other hand, he almost never think? of any 
other person. Probably Ernest's great moment is 
when he wakes of a morning and realizes that he 
really is Ernest, for we mnst all wish to be that which 
is our ideal. We can conceive him springing out of 
bed light-heartedly and waiting for his njan to do the 
rest. He is dressed in escellent taste, with jnst the 
little bit more which shows that he is not without a 
sense of humor; the dandiacal are often saved by 
carrying a smile at the whole thing in their spats, let 
us say. . . . 

Throughout the play now under discussion there 
is a great deal of such intimate detail, but it will 
be noticed that, even if the dramatist describes 



something which cannot actually he seen on the 
stage, there is no irrelevancy. Every word makes 
for unity — in the reader's mind, if not for the 
spectator's physical eye. Can as much be said, for 
instance, of Shaw's " Getting Married "? 

2. Barrie is a master of the one-act play-form. 
Does his technic differ radically from that of 
Sudermann in " Fritzchen "? Compare these two, 
then the present play with Shaw's " The Shewing- 
up of Blanco Posnet." 

3. How far is " The Twelve-pound Look " in- 
tended to he realistic? 



John Oswald Fiancis was born in 1882 at Mertbj^ 
Tydfil, in South Wales. His early education was re- 
ceived in the neighborhood of his native town; after- 
ward he attended the Universify College of Wales. 
He then taught school: in Paris, in Wales, and, since 
1907, in London. Francis began his literary career 
a few years ago with contribntions to The College 
Magazine, and has since " dabbled in journalism " in 
London. "Change" was his first full-length play; 
it brought its author considerable renown, as it won 
the Welsh Drama Competition in 1913, instituted by 
Lord Howard de Walden, 

Francis is here inclnded first because of the intrinsic 
value of his play, then because he is a true representa- 
tive of the new Welsh movement in drama. In 1914 
Lord Howard de Walden subsidized the Welsh Na- 
tional Drama Company, a repertory theater for plays 
both in Welsh and English. As yet, " Change " is 
the only play that has attracted widespread attention, 
but the movement is, according to all indications, 

• In a letter to the writer, Francis says: "... I be- 
lieve in the music-hall and have no sympathy with the 
' bigh-browed * condemnation of the people's joys. It is 
one of my ambitions to write short plays, which, wliile 
maintaining as high a literary merit as possible, iriU yet 



Chanqe (1912)- 

Performed at the Booth Theater, New York 1914. 
The Bake-Houu (1918). 
The Poacheb. 
FoH France (1914). 

" Change " is published, with on introdiiction by 
Montrose J. Moses, in the " Drama League Series " 
(Doubleday, Page) ; " The Poacher " la published by 
Sidgwick and Jackson (London). 

Refkrencb: Introduction to " Change. " — Maga- 
zine*: Bookman, vol. zzxix (p. 6S); Reviem of Re- 
viemt, vol. li (p. 119). 

appeal to the man fn the street ... 1 was annoyed by 
some critic who, after 'Change,' called me 'this sad and 
somber realist' By disposition, I am neither sad nor 
somber, and, on the strength of one play, whose sadness 
was dictated by the theme, it was not fair to envelop me 
in a mantle of perpetual black. When * Change ' went 
into the repertory for Wales, I wrote 'The Poadier' In 
order, amongst other things, to correct the notion that I 
did not like a bit of fun as much as anybody else." 


A play in four acts. Firtrt performed in 1913. 

" Change " was first produced in London by the 
Incorporated Stage Society in 191S, bnt when, a few 
months later, it was performed at Cardiff by the 
Welah National Drama Company, it was, in the 
antbor's words, the first " performance in Wales of 
a Welah play by a professional repertory company in 
the history of the country." As Mr, Moses remarks in 
his preface to the American edition of the play, 
" Change " shows " a realization of all that is signifi- 
cant in the modem spirit settling over Wales." As a 
play it is intrinsically significant as regards technic 
and idea. 

1. The very title of this play puts it in the 
same class with " Magda," " Milestones," " Ruth- 
erford and Son," " The Younger Generation," 
and the other plajs which are based upon the 
struggle between generation and generation, 
between what is new and what is old and estab- 

What is the " change " referred to in the title, 
and in what way has the dramatist made use of 
his material? 




2. Thia play serves as an excellent illustration 
of the fact that time-worn stage conventions can 
be used in such a way as not to seem out of place 
or insincere. It is only when insincere construc- 
tion and insincere characters are placed in a thor- 
oughly conventional framework that conventional 
tricks and devices- are offensive. Attention is 
called in the introduction (p. xv) to the mob 
scene outside, toward the end of the third act. 
This is unquestionably a trick, but so well is it 
handled, and so earnest is the author, that the 
scene somehow is not immediately reminis- 

3. Many — it is safe to say, most — plays nar- 
row down in the penultimate act to one, two, or 
three characters : one by one the subordinate char- 
acters are eliminated, so that when the climax 
comes, it can be all the more dramatic, because it 
rests on that *' spire of meaning " of which Gals- 
worthy speaks (p. 131). The reason for this is 
psychological: the law of attention demands that 
we fix our interest and sympathy on one object, 
for the presence of any more than one tends to 
scatter the attention. It is impossible to sym- 
pathize unless we can see individuals, or better still 
one individual, struggling with opponents. For 
two acts, " Change " has interested because of the 
theme, because of the numerous and varied char- 
acters, but rarely has our sympathy been aroused 



for persons; in order to introduce the human ele- 
ment, Francis drove home his theme by showing us 
the mother and Lizzie Ann. No amount of mere 
talk could so move us as this last scene of the 
third act: 

Gmen. — He's climbing the wall by Roberts's boose. 
He's shonting to them. Lewis! Lewis! Go down! 
(jSAe bend* formard, and give* a frightened shriek.) 
There's onr Gwilym. Look! He's on the wall, trying 
to pull Lewis away 

Lisssie Ann. — There's four soldiers. O Dduw! 

Don't look! Don't look! They're going to shoot! 

{She drags Green away from the mndow. There 

is a sound of firing nithout, followed by deep silence. 

In a tehisper.') 
They've done it! 

Gtven {pointing to the loindote'). — Look! 

lAzzie Ann (shuddering). — I can't. 

Gmen. — You most. 

Lizzie Ann. — I can't 

{Gwen navers a moment, and then forces herself 

toward the window and looks out.) 

Gwen. — They're carrying some one into Roberts's 
house. It's Lewis. No, there's Lewis! {She bends 
forward; then in a harsh voice) Lizzie Ann, come 

{Liesiie Ann goes quickly to her, and looks out. 
She starts and turns away, sobbing out, " Oh, 
machgen bach-i! ") 
Green. — Is it Gwilym? 



lAzmt Ann. — Yes, Gwiljmi! 

(for a moment Gwen ttandi tteaying to and fro. 
Then, toith a cry of anguith, the fall* proitrate on 
the floor.) 

Another proof that dramatists must ihom human 
emotions in order to make their audiences fe^. 
Without this human element, it is doubtful whether 
" Change " would be in any way a successful stage 

4. Compare the treatment of strikes in 
" Change," " Strife," and " Rutherford and Son." 






William Bntler Yeats was born in Dublin in 1865. 
He ia the son of John B. Yeats, the artist His early 
education was received in his native city and in Lon- 
don. Early in his career he identified himself with 
nnmeroDS attempts to revive the legends and litera- 
ture of ancient Ireland; in this connection his most 
important activity was the foundation, together with 
Lady Gregory, Edward Martyn, and George Moore, 
of The Irith LiteraTy TkeateT. Yeats has spent 
many years in collecting folk-lore; this he has utilised 
in many of his plays and collected into volumes of 
proae essays. Outside his dramatic work, essays and 
collections of legendary material, are his poems, un- 
doubtedly that part of his total output by which he 
will be longest remembered: " Poems," first and sec- 
ond series, " The Wanderings of Oisin," " The Secret 
Rose," and " The Wind Among the Reeds." 

" The future will look back to Mr. Yeats as to a 
landmark in the literary history of Ireland, both be- 
cause of bis artistic achievenrent and because he has 
been a leader in a remarkable movement. Through 
his poetry the Celtic spirit moves like a fresh wind," 
says H. S. Krans, in his " William Butler Yeats," 
Yeats brought to the theater great poetic gifts, he 
went far to arouse interest in the past glory of his 
coantry; as propagandist, as manager, as lecturer, he 



has done more than any otherj with the possible ex- 
ception of Lady Gregory, to create a new and living 
art for Ireland, but he cannot be accoonted a great 
dramatist. His vision is too limited, his genius too 
delicate, his temperament too subjectire, to allow him 
to stand aloof and let his characters work out their 
destiny as human beings. 


Thb Lano or Heabt's Dibise (1B94). 

Performed at Wallack's Theater, New York I9OI. 
The Countebs Cathleen (1899). 

Performed at Madison Sqnare Garden, New York 
D1AKH171D AND Grania (in collaboration with George 

Moore, I90I). 
Kathleen ni Houlihan (1903). 

Performed at the Hudson Theater, New York 1905. 
A Pot or Bboth (1902). 
The HovH-Gusa (190S). 

Performed at the Hudson Theater, New York 1904. 
The Kino's Thrxshold (190S). 
The Shadowy Waters (1904). 
On Bailk'b Strand (1904). 

Performed at the Little Theater, Chicago 1911- 
Dbirdre (I906). 
The Unicorn rROM the Stabs (in collaboration with 

Lady Gregory, 1907). 
The Golden Heluet (1908). 

There are a great many editions of Yeats's plays, 
owing to the fact that the poet has in some cases 



revised and rewritten certain of them six or seven 
times. The largest collected edition in that published 
by A. H. Bullen, at Stratf ord-on- Avon : "The Col- 
lected Works in Verse and Prose of William Bntler 
Yeats " (in eight volumes. Macmillans publish s 
volume of his poetic plays in " Poetical Works," Vol. 
II). " The Land of Heart's Desire " is also published 
separately by Mosher (Portland, Maine). " Kathleen 
ni Houlihan," "The Hoar-Glass," and "A Pot of 
Broth " are published in a single volnme by Mac- 
millan; " Kathleen ni Honlihan," " The Honr-Glass," 
and " The Unicorn from the Stars " are also published 
in a volnme by the same; also " The Golden Helmet," 
in a volnme with poems. " Diarmnid and Grania " 
has not been published. 

" The. Unicorn from the Stars " is a rewritten ver- 
sion of an earlier play, " Where There is Nothing," 
which is now out of print. " The Honr-Glass " is in 
" Chief Contemporary Dramatists " (Honghton 

Refbrehcks: Horatio Sheafe Krans, "William 
Bntler Yests and the Irish Literary Re- 
vival " (Doubleday, Page) ; Lady Gregory, " Onr 
Irish Theater " (Putnam) ; Maurice Bourgeois, 
" John Millington Synge and the Irish Dramatic 
Movement " (Macmillan) ; Cornelius Weygandt, 
" Irish Plays and Playwrights " (Houghton Mifflin) ; 
Frank Wadleigh Chandler, " Aspects of Modern 
Drama " (Macmillan) ; B. Rassell Herts, " Deprecia- 
tions " (Boni, New York) ; Clayton Hamilton, 
" Studies in Stagecraft " (Holt) ; Ludwig Lewisohn, 



"The Modern Drama" (Huebsch); George Moore, 
" Hail and Farewell " (Appleton) ; James Huueker, 
" The Pathos o( Distance " (Scribner) ; W. B. Yeats, 
" Ideas of Good and Evil " (Macmiltan) ; Alan Wade, 
"Bibliography of Yeata " ("CoUected Works," 
Bollen, Vol. VIII); L. Panl-Dnbois, "Contemporary 
Ireland" (Maunsel); anonymous, "The New Irish 
Drama," a reading list (Drama League of America). 
— Magazine!: Poet-Lore, vol, xv (p. 8S); Cntic, vol, 
sliv (p. 26) ; Collier'i, vol. xlviii (p. 13) ; Lttiin^ 'Iffe, 
vol. ccUix (p. 655); Fortnightly, vol xci (p. 342); 
Harper't Weekly, vol. xlviii (p. 291 ) ; Book Netow 
Monthly, vol. xxii (p. 1024) ; Wettmin$ter Revteto, 
vol, clzxvi (p. 1); North American, voL clxxv (p. 
47S); Quarterly, vol. ccxv (p. 219). 



A play in five scenes. First performed in 1899- 

It has already been stated that Yeata's greatest con- 
tribution to the movement he went so far to establish 
was not the plays he wrote for it, but his unfailing 
encouragement, his managerial ability, his propagand- 
ist endeavors. Yet his plays deserve consideration, as 
they are attempts at a new style of drama, not as to 
form but as to treatment of subject-matter, and lit- 
erary style. This, of course, has very little to do with 
dramatic technic, hut the study of these accessories is 
well worth while. In his preface to the second vol- 
ume of the " Poetical Works " be says : " I have chosen 
all of my themes from Irish legend or Irish history, 
and my friends have made joyous, extravagant, and, 
as I am certain, distinguished comedy out of the com- 
mon life of the villages, or out of a fantasy trained 
by the contemplation of that life and of the tales 
told by its firesides. This theater cannot but be more 
interesting to people of other races because it is Irish, 
and, therefore, to some extent, stirred by emotions 
and thoughts not hitherto expressed in dramatic 
fonn. ..." 

1. There is a mystical atmosphere in " The 
Countess Cathleen " which is comparable with the 
earlier plays of Maeterlinck. In what respects is 



this play similar in technic to " The Intruder " 
or "Pelleas and Melisande"? Are there any in- 
dications that Yeats was influenced by the Belgian F 

2. In a note to his "Deirdre" (in the "Col- 
lected Works ") Yeats says: "The principal diffi- 
culty with the form of dramatic literature I have 
adopted is that, unlike the loose Elizabethan form, 
it continually forces one by its rigor of logic away 
from one's capacities, experiences, and desires, 
until, if one have not patience to wait till it comes, 
there is rhetoric and logic and dry circumstance 
where there should be life," In this play are there 
evidences of this struggle of wluch the poet 
speaks? Where and of what sort are theyP Does 
Yeats fall into conventional grooves? 

Is there any special reason why the play should 
be divided into five scenes? Are there well-defined 
divisions in the play: exposition, development, 
climax, etc.? 

S. As in Stephen Phillips's " Paolo and Fran- 
cesca," there are many lyrical passages and short 
speeches which are of independent value and Strik- 
ing beauty, apart from the dramatic context. Is 

" You shall at last dry like dry leaves, and hang 
Nailed like dead vermin to the doors of God," 

more effective because it is spoken by Maire in a 
certain place in this play, than it would be if it 



stood alone or as part of an epicP Are the superb 

" The years like great black oxen tread tbe world. 
And God tbe herdsman goads tbem on behind. 
And I am broken by their passing feet." 

epic or dramatic? 

4. Read Yeats's *' Kathleen ni Houlihan," a 
prose plaj which is eminently effective on the 
stage. Compare it carefully with " The Countess 
Cathleen." In what respects do the two plays 
differ? Why is the prose piece more ** theatrical "? 
In " Kathleen ni Houlihan " are there any pas- 
sages, as there are in " The Countess Cathleen," 
which might stand alone by reason of their in- 
trinsic beauty? 

5. Notice the stage-directions. They are sim- 
ple, but they indicate the poet's sense of action and 
dramatic effect. The play closes with : " A sound 
of far-off horns leemg to come from the heart of 
ike Light. The viHon melts away, and the forms 
of the kneeUng PEASANTS appear faintly/ in the 
darkness," Often a dramatist throws out a hint, 
which the stage-manager is intended to act upon, 
filling in the necessary " business." How much 
leeway has the manager in the present play? 


\ \ 


Edmund John Millington Syoge was born at New- 
town Little, in the vicinity of Dublin, in 1871. Not 
moch is known of his early life, except that he lived 
at home until be was nearly twen^, that he entered 
Trinity College, Dublin, in 1888, and was graduated 
four years later. His predilection was for languages 
and music, although he was ever an ardent nature- 
lover. For many years he wandered about the Conti- 
nent, writing a little and allowing impressions of men 
and nature to gather in his receptive mind. He went 
first to Germany, with the intention of pursuing his 
musical studies ; after a year, he abandoned the idea 
and went to Fans, in order to do literary criticism. 
Still oncertain of his true calling, he made various 
though unsuccessful attempts to write poetry and 
essays. He did not " find himself " until he was dis- 
covered by another young enthusiast from Ireland, W. 
B. Yeats, who, in 1898, induced him to leave Paris 
and return to Ireland and devote himself to a study of 
the people, and write real Irish plays for the recently- 
fonnded Irish Theater. In the Aran Islands, in 
Wicklow and Kerry and Connemara, Synge found the 
necessary material and inspiration for his plays. He 
died of cancer at Dublin in 1909. 

Synge was quiet, introspective, reticent, yet he al- 
lowed his true temperament — with all its. wild vagari- 



ows longings, its furious exultations — to find expression 
in his plays. " He loves," says Yeats, " all that has 
edge, all that is salt in the month, all that is rough 
to the hand, all that heightens the emotions by contest, 
all that stings into life the sense of tragedy. . . . 
The food of the spiritnal-minded is sweet, an Indian 
scripture says, but passionate minds love bitter food." 
His interest was in humanity, in everyday life, eape- 
daily in those manifestations of primitive life which 
he knew so well how to seek out and use to advantage. 


Thb Shadow or the Glen (1903). 

Performed by the Irish Players on tour 191S-3. 
Riders to thb Sea (1904). 

Performed by the Irish Players on tour 1912-3. 
The Well of the Saints (1905). 

Performed by the Irish Players on tour 1912-3. 
The Playboy of the Western World (1907)- 

Performed by the Irish Players on tour l9li-8. 
The Tinker's WEnuiNO (1909). 
Deirdbe of the Sorrows (1910). 

Performed by the Chicago Muncal College I91S. 

" The Works of John M. Synge," a collected edi- 
tion in four volumes, is published by Luce. Cheap 
editions of all the plays are published separately by 
the same publisher. " Riders to the Sea " is included 
in " Chief Contemporary Dramatists " (Houghton 
Mifflin). Mannsel publishes the complete plays in one 

References: Francis Bickley, "J. M. Synge and 



the Irish Dramatic Movement " (Hoaghton Mifflin) ; 
Maurice Bonrgeois, " John Millington Synge and the 
Irish Theater " (Macmillan) ; C. £. MonUgae, 
"Dramatic Values" (Macmillan); P. F. Howe, 
"J. M. Synge" (Kennerley); Cornelius Weygandt, 
" Irish Plays and Playwrights " (Houghton Mif- 
flin) ; George Moore, " Hail and Farewell " (Ap- 
pleton) ; Lady Gregory, " Our Irish Theater " (Put- 
nam) ; W. B. Yeats, " The Cutting of an Agate " 
(Macmillan) ; L. Paul-Dubois, " Contemporary 
Ireland " (Mannsel) ; Ludwig Lewisohn, " The 
Modem Drama" (Huebsch); Clayton Hamilton, 
" Studiea in Stagecraft " (Holt) ; Darrell Figgis, 
" Studies and Appreciations " (Dutton) ; William 
Archer, " Playmaking " (Small, Maynard) ; John 
Masefield, "Dictionary of National Biography"; 
Mario Borsa, " The English Stage of To-day " 
(Lane) ; Frank Wadleigh Chandler, " Aspects 
of Modem Drama" (Macmillan); James Hunekcr, 
" The Pathos of Distance " (Scrlbner) ; John M, 
Synge, prefaces to " The Playboy of the Western 
World " and " The Tinker's Wedding " ; " The Aran 
Islands" and "In Kerry and Wicklow " (Luce), — 
Magazines: Contemporary Review, vol. xcix (p. 470); 
Dial, Tol. I (p. 37), vol. liv (p. 23S) ; Living Age, vol. 
cclxix (p. 163), vol. ccIxiK (p. 777); Nation, vol. 
xciii (p. 876), vol. xcv (p. 608); Yale Revietp, vol. i 
(p. 192), vol. ii (p. 767); Forum, vol. iJvii (p. 55); 
Current Literature, vol. liii (p. 695). 



A play in one act. First perfoipied in 1904. 

Tliis little drama, while it has none of the uproari- 
ous " romping " of " The Playboy," ia still an unmis- 
takabie iudieation of Synge's keen enthusiasm for all 
that concerns hnman life. If he can take pleasure in 
the vitality and animal spirits of a Christy Mahon, he 
can likewise savor the dumb tragedy of a Maurya. 
The play is a picture, compressed and synthesized, 
of the helplessness of a mother iu her hopeless strug- 
gle with the sea. 

1. Sjnge's perfect mastery of words is one of 
his ^eatest assets. Like Shakspere, he can at once 
supply environment, create atmosphere, paint 
word-pictures. That sharp contrast between the 
homely and everyday in life and the gruesomeness 
of death is clearly drawn in " Riders to the Sea." 
Hartley says : " Where is the bit of new rope, 
Cathleen, was bought in ConnemaraP " and Cath- 
leen replies : " Give it to him, Nora, it's on a nail 
by the white boards. I hung it up this morning, 
for the pig with the black feet was eating it." 
This is what Yeats means when he speaks of 
Syoge's loving all that has edge. 



ft. In " Vale," the second volume of his ** Hail 
and Farewell," George Moore wrote of " Riders 
to the Sea": "... when I heard this one-act 
play, it Beemed very little more than the contents 
of Synge's notebook, an experiment in language 
rather than a work of art, a preparatory essay; 
he seemed to me to have contented himself with re- 
lating a painful rather than a dramatic story, his 
preoccupation being to discover a style, a vehicle 
of expression. ..." And the incident is pain- 
ful rather than dramatic, for the struggle must 
be felt in the background, it cannot be seen and 
participated in by the audience. Consequently, 
we might almost feel that the struggle here de- 
picted was so hopeless as to leave no room for 
anything but dumb submission. A true tragedy 
ought to give the hero a chance to fight; here the 
dice are loaded. The play is, however, a powerful 
and beautiful picture. 

" Riders to the Sea " serves to illustrate the es- 
sential difference between the one-act play and the 
play in two or more acts: since the former is al- 
most always concerned with but a single incident, 
it is capable of very little development. Now a 
tragedy is not a fact nor an event ; it must show 
great and strong characters — or at least charac- 
ters in which there is potential greatness or 
strength — struggling with forces which are finally 
too great to be overcome. And we must tee the 



struggle, A tragic figure must have the oppor- 
tunity to fail honorablj, and we wish to see him 
trying to evade his fate. " Hamlet " would be 
ordinary melodrama if we were deprived of his 
soul- revealing soliloquies; " (Edipus," too, if we 
could not follow the King's efforts to escape what 
was decreed. A one-act play can scarcely more 
than indicate the result of a struggle. The last 
act of " Hamlet " is not a tragedy in itself, and 
" Riders to the Sea," like that last act, is but the 
result of what has gone on for a long time before. 
At the end we feel something of the great sorrow 
and eventual peace of the old woman in her last 
words : " Michael has a clean burial in the far 
north, by the grace of the Almighty God. Bartley 
will have a fine coffin out of the white boards, and 
a deep grave surely. What more can we want 
than that? No man at all can be living forever, 
and we must be satisfied." Still, the struggle was 

Is a one-act tragedy possible? 



A comedy in tbree acts. First performed in 1907. 

In the preface to "The Playboy" Synge wrote: 
". . .in countries where the imagination of the peo- 
ple, and the language they use, is rich and living, it 
is possible for a writer to be rich and copious in his 
words, and at the same time give the reality, which is 
the root of all poetry, in a comprehensive and natural 
form." This play is the living embodiment of Synge's 
ideas on the combination of reality and poetry in the 
drama. " The Playboy " — indeed, all of Synge's 
plays — is outside the realm of literary " movementa.1^ — 
and coteries; his plays are not plays of ideas.'''^heses 
and problems die. Ideas are for a generation, or for a 
few generations. Again the dramatist expounds (in 
the preface to " The Tinker's Wedding ") : " The 
drama is made serious — in the French sense of the 
word — not by the degree in which it is taken up with 
problems that are serious in themselves, but by the 
degree in which it gives the nourishment, not very 
easy to define^ on which onr imaginations live. . . . 
The drama, like the symphony, does not teach or 
prove anything. ..." 

1. In his travel-book, " The Aran Islands," we 
find the following passage: "... He often tells 



me about a Cotmaught man who killed his father 
^ith the blov of a spade when he was In a passion, 
and then fled to this island and threw himself on 
the mercy of some of the natives. , . . They hid 
him in a hole . . . and kept him safe for weeks, 
though the police came and searched for him, and 
he could hear their boots grinding on the stones 
over his head. In spite of a reward which was 
offered, the island was incorruptible, and after 
much trouble the man was safely shipped to 

" This impulse to protect the criminal is univer- . 
sal in the west. It seems partly due to the associa- 
tion between justice and the hated English juris- 
diction, but more directly to the primitive feeling 
of these people, who are never criminals yet always 
capable of crime, that a man will not do wrong 
unless he is under the influence of a passion which 
is as irresistible as a storm on the sea. If a man 
has killed his father, and is already sick and broken 
■with remorse, they can see no reason why he should 
be dragged away and killed by the law. 

" Such a man, they say, will be quiet all the rest 
of his life, and if you suggest that punishment is 
needed as an example, they ask, ' Would any one 
kill his father if he was able to help it ? '" 

Out of his sympathy and enthusiasm for life, ita 
humor, its bite, its contradictions, its exhilaration, 
Synge wrote this play. The dramatist's end was 



" reality " and " joy." He was little concerned 
with technic, he had no purpose but that of allow- 
ing his living creatures to revel in life, to revel in 
rich idioms. Still, this apparently spontaneous 
comedy was the result of arduous labor: George 
Moore relates that the last act was rewritten thir- 
teen times. 

ft. Many plays, of all ages and periods, have 
contained first acts with very little in them but 
the exposition of a few facts and the creation of 
the environment or milieu. The opening of " The 
Playboy " is full of atmosphere, and strikes the 
keynote of the action which is to follow ; but there 
is no such conscious preparation as there is in the 
expository act of Pinero's " Thunderbolt." Peg- 
cen Mike, in Synge's play, opens the act vitli: 
" Six yards of stuff for to make a yellow gown. A 
pair of lace boots with lengthy heels on them and 
brassy eyes, A hat is suited for a wedding-day. 
A fine tooth comb. To be sent with three barrels 
of porter in Jimmy Farrell's creel cart on the even- 
ing of the coming Fair to Mister Michael James 
Flaherty. With the best compliments of this sea- 
son. Margaret Flaherty." Compare this simple 
paragraph with the elaborate preparatory open- 
ings of " The Second Mrs. Tanqueray " and 
" Iris." 

S. Throughout the play the development of the 
plot, such as it is, goes band in hand with the 



development of Christj's character. Beginning 
with Christy's " I had it in my mind it was a diif er- 
ent word and a bigger " (just after his entrance 
in the first act), trace, by reference to hb speeches, 
how, in his own estimation and in that of his audi- 
ence, he grows from " a slight young man . . . 
very tired and frightened and dirty " to a " likely 
gaffer in the end of all." There is a certain simi- 
larity between the growth of Hamlet's character 
and Christy's. 

4. " The Playboy " is literary in the dramatic 
sense of the word. Can the same be said of 
Stephen Phillips's "Paolo and Francesca"? 



Lady Augusta Gregory was born at Roxborongh, 
Coantj Galway, Ireland, in 1S59' For many years 
she has participated, like Yeats, in various revivals of 
Irish lore and literature, and in the creation of a 
national theater and drama. Together with Yeats and 
other collaborators, she helped found the Iritk Na- 
tional Theater Society, and is now manager of the 
Abbey Theater in Dublin. 

Lady Gregory ia one of the most important figures 
in the modern Irish movement: her rewriting of the 
ancient Irish legends — in " Cachulain of Muir- 
themne," " Gods and Fighting Men," and " The Book 
of Saints and Wonders " — her plays, her lecturing, 
her co-operation in innumerable societies for the social 
and political betterment of her country, entitle her to 
a place of honor by the side of Yeats. Her best plays, 
her comedies that is, were written in order to furnish 
relief to the historical plays, the folk and fairy-plays 
which were at one period threatening to make the 
Abbey Theater a one-aided institution. In the note 
appended to " Spreading the News," she says: " The 
idea of this play first came to me as a tragedy. . . . 
But comedy and not tragedy was wanted at onr the- 
ater to pnt beside the high poetic work, ' The King's 
Threshold,' ' The Shadowy Waters,' * On Baile's 
Strand,' ' The Well of the SainU '; and I let laughter 



have its way with the little play." Five of the com- 
edies in her volume called " Seven Short Plays," and 
one or two others, are surely as quaint and hnmorons 
and truly comic as any of our time. They may well 
be compared with the lighter pieces of Molifere: kindly 
yet satirical, gay yet at times bitter, but always in- 
tensely haman. Lady Gregory excels in the one-act 
form; in her longer plays, like "The Image," she 
lacks the necessary skill in the construction of a mov- 
ing and interesting story. Of mystic and tragic beauty 
Lady Gregory is more sparing, but " The Traveling 
Man " and " The Gaol Gate," the latter in particolar, 
are noble bits of pathos, well written in stately and 
rhythmical prose. Were it not for the haunting echoes 
of Synge's language, there would be no ground for 
hesitating to place Mary Cahel's speeches in " The 
Gaol Gate " as the finest prose produced in the Irish 


Spreading THE News (1904). 

Performed by the Irish Players on tour 1911-2. 
KiKCORA (1905). 
The* White Cockade (1905). 
Hyacinth Halvet (1906). 

Performed by the Irish Players on tour 1911-2. 
The Gaoi. Gate (1906). 

Performed by the Irish Players on tour 1911-3. 
The Canavans (1906). 
The Jackdaw (1907). 

Performed by the Irish Players on tour 1911-2. 



Thi Bibino of thk Moon (1907). 

Perfomied bj the Irish PUyere on toor I9I 1-2. 
The Pookhodse (in coUaboration with Donglaa Hyde, 

Dbbvoboilla (1907). 
The Unicorn fboh the Staxi (in coUaboraUon with 

W. B. Yeats, 1907). 
The Wobkmouse Wabs (1908). 

Performed by the Irish Players on tonr 191 1-S. 
The ItiAOE (1909). 

Perfomied by the Irish Players on toor 1911-2- 
The Traveling Man (I91O). 
The Fcll Moon (191O). 
Coats (191O). 

Performed by the Irish Players I9I8> 
The Deliterer (I911). 
MacDarraoh'i Wife (191S)- 
The Booie Men (1912). 
Daher'b Gold (1912). 

Performed by the Irish Players 1913- 

Lady Gregory has translated plays by Moli^re, 
Sudermann, and Goldoni. 

" Spreading the News," " Hyacinth Halvty," " The 
Gaol Gate," " The Jackdaw," " The Rising of the 
Moon," " The Workhouse Ward," and " The Travel- 
ing Man " are pnblisbed in " Seven Short Plays " by 
Maunsel (Putnam is the American agent) ; " Grania," 
" Kincora," " Dervorgilla," " The Canavans," " The 
White Cockade," and " The Deliverer " are pnblished 
by Putnam in two volumes as " Folk-History Plays "; 
" The Image " is published separately by Maonselj 



•* The Full Moon," " Coats," " MacDarragh's Wife," 
" The Bogie Men," and " Darner's Gold " are pub- 
lished b; Pntnam in " New Comedies " ; " The Rising 
of the Moon " is included in " Chief Contemporary 
Cramatista " (Houghton Mifflin). The translations 
from Moli^re are published by Maunsel in " The Kil- 
tartan Moli^re." The other translations are not pub- 
lished. For " The Unicorn from the Stars," see under 
William Butler Yeats. " The Poorhonae " is not 

Befehences: See under William Butler Yeata, gen- 
eral reference books on the Irish movement by Corne- 
lius Weygandt, Mario Borsa, L. Paul-Dubois, Maurice 
Bourgeois, Lady Gregory, W. B. Yeats, George 
Moore, Clayton Hamilton, and Ludwig Lewisohn. — 
Magasinet: Quarterli/ Review, vol. cczv (p. SSI); 
Collier't, toL xlvii (p. 15); Outlook, vol. zcix (p. 
916); Forum, vol. xlviii (p. 465); Contemporary Re' 
■eieto, Tol. ell (p. 602); Independent, vol. Ixxiv (p. 
857) ; Living Age, vol. cclxxxi (p. S88). 



A comedy in one act First performed in 1906. 

The note (p. 203, " Seven Short Plays ") tells of 
the origin of this little play: " I was pointed oat one 
evening a well-brushed, well-dreaaed man in the stalls, 
and was told gossip about him, perhaps not all tme, 
which made me wonder if that appearance and be- 
havior as of extreme respectability might not now and 
again be felt a burden. After a while he translated 
himself in my mind into Hyacinth; and as one must 
set one's original a little way off to get a translation 
ratber than a tracing, he found himself in Cloon, 
where, as in other parts of our country, ' character ' 
is built up or destroyed by a password or an emotion, 
rather than by experience or deliberation. The idea 
was more of a universal one than I knew at the first, 
and I have bad but uneasy appreciation from some 
apparently blameless friends." 

Like most of Lady Gregory's comedies, " Hyacinth 
Halvey " contains a universal idea or basis: reputa- 
tion is in a great measnire a matter of " a password 
or an emotion." Hyacinth, having a good reputation 
thrust apon him, may do as he likes: his good name 
will cling to him. In this play we langh at humanity: 
here ia the essence of comedy. 



1. In the realm of what is termed the modem 
drama, we have seen that classifjcation is becoming 
more and more difficult. " Hyacinth Halvey " can 
safely be termed comedy, but comedy with a con- 
tinual tendency toward farce. The characters are 
undoubtedly " possible," and the situation likewise, 
yet somehow Hyacinth's unbroken series of fail- 
ures to lose his good reputation, and Fardy Far- 
rell's unparalleled failures to lose his bad one, lead 
us to assume that the dramatist is bordering upon 
farce. Possibly the Irish setting and the good sim- 
ple people render the episodes sufficiently foreign 
to enable us to accept the facts, yet these charac- 
ters are so delightfully human that they must be 
taken as universal types. 

2. This play, together with " Spreading the 
News," " The Jackdaw," and " The Workhouse 
Ward," raises again the question of comedy and 
tragedy. At the risk of being paradoxical, one 
might say that a tragedy is a play the closing 
of which is its goal, the spire of its meaning; a 
comedy Is one the whole of which stands In and by 
Itself, for the sake of its characters, and which hat 
no end. Tragedy shows the struggles of strong 
individuals against fate ("CEdipus") or circum- 
stances ("Romeo and Juliet"); against them- 
selves ("Hamlet") or against others ("JuKus 
Cfesar " and " Othello "), and muet end in defeat. 
Comedy is not concerned with the outcome; it 



amuses us from minute to minute: the outcome 
never seriousl; matters. Usual); the end is the 
union of lovers, which is the merest convention. 
Hod ** Hamlet " ended in any other way than as 
it does, the play would have been spoiled or rad- 
ically changed, had " As You Like It " not ended 
with the series of unions, the pUy would still have 
had meaning in itself, intrinsic dramatic value. 
Tragedy points forward to the catastrophe — it is 
not a tragedy until the tragic outcome occurs 
— comedy is sufficient unto itself. 

Lady Gregory has recognized this fact, and has 
left three or four of her comedies with " hanging " 
ends. The best examples of this are " Hyacinth 
Halvey " and " The Jackdaw." In the former, we 
are shown Hyacinth trying in vain to undeceive 
the people as to his " character " ; a series of in- 
cidents demonstrates the utter futility of the at- 
tempt. There is no denouement; " Let us there- 
fore ring down the curtain," says Lady Gregory. 

Similarly, in " The Jackdaw," there is no solu- 
tion : the police are coming, there will doubtless be 
an explanation, but that will not interest us. 
Therefore the dramatist says : " Sounds of feet 
and talking and knock at the door. Cooney hidet 
under counter. Nestor lieg down on top of bench, 
spreads his newspaper over him, Mrs. Broderick 
goes behind counter." Then Nestor says: "(rais- 
ing paper from his face and looking out) Tommy 



Nally, I will give you five shillings if you will 
draw ' Tit-Bits ' over my feet." — ^That is the end. 
S. Notice by way of comparison the elaborate 
dSnouementa of " Sweet Lavender '* and '* The 



A play in one act. First performed in 1907. 

The origin of this little patriotic play was of the 
slightest sort, according to the author (see p. 205, 
"Seven Short Plays"). Its simplicity, its direct 
emotional appeal, its quiet humor, leave scarcely any 
ground for criticism or analysis. 

1. With all its simplicity, " The Rising of the 
Moon " is a carefully prepared little play. Ob- 
serve the methods used to create atmosphere. An 
effective bit of " living stage-direction " is the 
speech : " There's a flight of steps here that leads 
to the water. This is a place that should be 
minded well. If he got down here, his friends 
might have a boat to meet him; they might send 
it in here from outside." Without more ado, the 
action is begun : two and a half pages supply what 
preparation is needful, then the Ballad-singer 
comes in. The quick, short dialogue, the quaint 
idioms, the amusing manner in which the slight 
plot winds about, but ever pursues its way upward 
to the climax (pp. 94-fi) — all this reveals careful 
workmanship. The denouement is brief, and the 
close very effective. 

Could Lady Gregory have left the end of this 



play " hanging," as she did in " Hyacinth Hal- 
vej " and " The Jackdaw *'? 

S. During the past few years certain critics and 
dramatists — Synge, Jones,* Bennett, and Knob- 
lauch are among the latter — have either openly or 
in practice advocated a return to the play for 
the play's sake, and have consistently avoided 
thesis plays, plays with " ideas." Ideas, they feel, 
are usurping the place of joy and life in the the- 
ater. They object in general to Brieux and 
Bernard Shaw, not primarily because such drama- 
tists write plays for the purpose of furthering a 
reform or combating a social abuse or setting 
forth problems, but because in so doing they are 
abusing the dramatic form, which is intended to 
represent all of life, and not to expose ideas which 
have to do, in a greater or less degree, with life. 

Lady Gregory, in particular, depicts life as she 
sees it, and allows ideas to grow out of her poi^ 
trayal of it. She is always more interested in 
people than in things and abstract, ideas, so that 
her plays are likely to outlive those of Hervieu 
and Brieux in which abstractions preponderate. 
She is not devoid of ideas — far from it — only her 
ideas are always inseparable from her characters. 
She has not " lost sight of the individual." 

S. In what respects is " The Rising of the 
Moon " a theatrical playP 

*See Henry Arthur Jones, "The Theater of Ideas" 



T. C. Mnrra;^ waa bom in a small town in the 
County Cork, in 1873. Educated at local schools, he 
entered St. Patrick's College in Dublin, and studied 
to become a teacher. At the end of two years, he 
was qualified to teach as a National schoolmaster, and 
has taught in various schools in his native county. At 
an early age he wrote verse, and in 1909 his first 
play, " The Wheel o' Fortune," waa produced at a 
little theater in Cork. 

Extracts from a tetter to the writer will explain 
some of Mr. Murray's activities: " I think I may at 
the ontset safely describe myself as a playwright 
by accident. Five or nx years ago a knot of Cork 
people of literary tastes formed a society for the 
production of original plays by Corkmen. The secre- 
tary buttonholed me on the street one Saturday even- 
ing, desiring to know if I had ever essayed anything 
in drama. I had not ... He urged me to try 
something in dramstic literature for the society and 
in a few weeks the MS. of ' The Wheel o' Fortune,' 
a little one-act comedy of matchmaking, waa in bis 
hands. . . . The comedy, despite its many crudities, 
proved a surprising success. Something over a year 
ago I reconstructed the ending . . . and rewrote 
most of the dialogue, and it was produced by the 
Abbey Company . . . under the title of ' Sovereign 


T. C. MURRAY 209 

Love.' 'Birtiiright' (October, 1910) followed 'The 
Wheel o* Fortnne.' Whatever craft there is in it 
comes from pure inatinct. After ' Birthright ' came 
'Manrice Harte ' (June, 1912), and in the meantime 
I had devoured all that was lignilicaDt in modem 
dramatic literature, making a study of the Rassian, 
Norwegian, Swedish, and German schools of drama 
... I am told that the technic of ' Maurice 
Harte ' is inferior to that of " Birthright' Instinct 
itself proved the surer guide in shaping and working 
out mj theme ! " 

The Whxel o' Fortune (1909). 

BlRTHBIGHT (1910). 

Performed by the Irish Players on tour 1911-2. 
Maurice Harte (1912). 

Performed by the Irish Players on tonr I913-S. 
Sovereign Love (1914). 

" Birthright " and " Maurice Harte " are published 
by Luce. The other plays have not yet appeared in 

Refzrencee: Books already referred to by Corne- 
lius Weygandt, Frank Wadleigh Chandler, Clayton 



A play in two acts. First performed in 1910. 

" Birthright " is nnqcestioDably the best of the 
realistic plays of the younger generation of Irish play- 
irrights. It is masterly in construction, full of good 
characterization, and contains the spirit of true 
tragedy. No other Irish play of its kind is so relent- 
lessly direct, so moving, so stirring and powerfuL 
Like the same author's " Maurice Harte," it is con- 
cerned with a family straggle; the conflict between 
man and wife, between brother and brother. 

1. The dialogue of the first fifteen pages ap- 
pears casual and yet inevitable. While this is a]l 
exposition, at the same time it starts an emotional 
rise. The antagonism of Bat and his wife Maura 
is clearly set forth in words and action, while that 
between the brothers, neither of whom has yet ap- 
peared, is introduced in the course of the con- 
versation. Then Shane, the younger son, comes in 
(p. 15). There is a momentary release of 
dramatic tension, then a foreboding note in the 
remarks about the weather (see paragraph on the 
*' pathetic fallacy," p. 166, present volume), then 
the elder son, Hugh, makes his appearance (p. 
19). Here is a striking contrast, for Hugh is a 


T. C. MURRAY 211 

splendid, athletic, whole-hearted fellow. The scene 
■with his mother affords contrast as well as neces- 
sary infonnation for the audience. Hugh must go 
out for the evening; he leaves just before his 
father and brother re-enter. Again the fate-motjf 
is sounded : *' Well, 'tis the long lane that have 
no turning, and my brave Hugh have come to 
the turning at last.** For Bat has determined to 
send Hugh to America in place of Shane (p, 27). 
There is a climas at the end of this act, as Shane's 
name on the trunk tag is changed to Hugh's. The 
curtain leaves the audience just sufficiently sure of 
what is to happen to avoid confusion, and curious 
enough to feel further interest. 

9,. The first act has been analyzed in some detail 
as to the progress of the story. One of the most 
striking and admirable qualities of this play is 
what may be termed sweep: compressed into two 
short acts is a complete tragedy, the basis of 
which is as old and as universal as the world. 
Given the means and the background, the author 
could scarcely have allowed more space to the de- 
velopment of the plot, and, judged according to 
the criterion of theatrical effectiveness — or even 
reading — it would have been superfluous and there- 
fore fatal, to add more. 

With very little preparation, the climax and 
tragedy of the second act is reached : the first part 
of the act is the simplest sort of development. 



From the moment Shane enters (p. 38) the action 
rises swiftly, naturally, fatally, until Hu^ is 
" felled to the ground," and the play closes. 

Probably the extreme simplicity and directness 
of the play were the result of the author's instinct- 
ive feeling for what is dramatic. His words (p. 
209) serve but to show that dramatists are for the 
most part bom, not made. 

3. St. John G. Ervine's " Mixed Marriage " is 
in four acts, yet its story is essentially as unified 
as that of " Birthright." In what way does 
Ervine justify the division into four, rather than 
three or two acts? Would "Mixed Marriage" 
have been a better play if it had been condensed 
into three acts, or two? Could it have been? 



St. Joho G. Ervine was born at Belfast, in 1S8S. 
He first entered the insurance business, then was 
dramatic critic of the Dailg Citinen. Since hia resi- 
dence in London he has written a number ot miscel- 
laneous essays, a few plays, and the novel: "Mrs. 
Martin's Man." 

Ervine is one of the yoanger group in tbe Irish 
movement, who, together with T. C. Murray and 
I>nDox Robinson, have turned their Etttention to the 
realistic depiction of life in the cities and small 
towns. Ervine has with one exception laid the scene 
of his principal plays in and around Belfast: " Mixed 
Marriage," " The Orangeman," and " The Magnani- 
mous Ixiver " arc plays of town life, and stand in dis- 
tinct contrast with the wild, half-imaginary fantasies 
of Synge, the quaint comedies of Lady Gregory, and 
the fairy twilight plays of Yeats. Ervine concerns 
himself with the struggle of character with character: 
Protestant and Catholic, youth and age, prejudice and 
freedom. His power lies in the creation of human 
characters. The father and mother in " Mixed Mar- 
riage," the father and mother again in " The Orange- 
man," and Jane Clegg in the play of that name, are 
distinct contributions. " Jane Clegg," his latest play, 
is laid in England, and marks a departure in subject- 





MnmHiiaRUOB (1911)- 

Ferfonned by the Irish Playen on tour 1 91 1-2- 
Thi Magnamihous Lover (19I2}< 
The Osanokmah (191S). 
The Chitics (1913). 
Jahx Clkoq (1914). 
IsA Blackwood (1914). 

The first fonr of these plays «re published in a 
ctngle Tolume, " Four Irish Plays," by Maonsel 
(Dublin) ; " Mixed Marriage " and " The Magnani- 
mous Lover " are issued separately by the same pub- 
lisher (Luce in America) ; " Jane Clegg " is published 
by Sidgwick and Jackson (London). 

BBFenENCEs: Books already referred to under 
William Butler lEeats, by Cornelius Weygandt and 
Clayton Hamilton. — Magazine: Everybody't, voL 
xxviii (p. 678). 



A play in four acts. Fiist perfonoed in I9II. 

This is primarily a play of character, the sort in 
which this dramatist excels. The men and women, 
and the environment in which they exist, are what 
interest him. 

1. In order the better to set off his characters 
he has introduced a thesis, which is clearly stated 
(p. 7 of the "Four Irish Plays") in the first 
act. Rainey says : " A wudden have a son o' 
mine marry a Cathlik fur all the wurl. A've 
nathin' agin the girl, hut A believe in stickin' 
t'yer religion. A Cathllk's a Cathlik, and a 
Prodesan's a Prodesan. Ye can't get over 
that," Tom replies: "Och, sure, they're all the 
same. Ye cudden tell the differs atween a Cath- 
lik an' a Prodesan if ye met them in the street 
an' didden know what their religion wus. A'm not 
one fur marryin' out o' my religion meself, but 
A'm no bigot. Nora Murray's a fine wumman." 
With this plain statement of theme we might be 
prone to expect at first a thesis playj pure and 
simple, but the next speech affords at least a cue 
as to the trend the play will take. When Rainey 
declares, " Fine or no fine, she's a Cathlik an* A'll 



niver consent til a son o* mine marrjin* her," it is 
reasonable to assume that the plaj will be one of 
" conflicting wills." This is in fact what it is, 
and the wills conflict over a question which is after 
all of only secondary artistic importance. Rainey 
and Mrs. Rainey, Nora Murray and Hugh, must 
have something to struggle about, something which 
will develop and expose their characters. 

This flrst act, like the succeeding ones, is well 
balanced: character against character, with suffi- 
cient plot and sufficient background to form an 
harmonious whole. 

2. The struggle, it has been frequently observed, 
is one of the basic principles, thougli not unalter- 
able laws, of the drama from time inmemorial, A 
play in which there is a sharply indicated clash 
of interests, like Echegaray's " Madman or 
Saint " and the present work, begins with a more 
or less general statement: in the case of " Mixed 
Marriage " it consists in Rainey's objection to the 
intermarriage of Protestants and Catholics, Pirst 
we are shown that his son Hugh is in love with 
Nora Murray, a Catholic. But the dramatist does 
not consider it sufficient to confine the struggle to 
these few people: he introduces external forces. 
Michael's words (p. 18) are ominous: *'It 
mightn't be again you on'y though? " Notice how 
the struggle develops from the particular to the 






Bronson Croker Howard was bom at Detroit, in 
1842. ReceiFing hia primary education in Detroit, 
he prepared himself for Yale at an eastern prepara- 
tory school, but was prevented from entering college 
because of an affection of the eyes. He then retonted 
to Detroit, and joined the staff of the Free Prett, to 
which he made numerous contributions. At the same 
time he was experimenting with the play-form. Most 
of his early attempts were never produced. His first 
play was a dramatization of an episode from " Les 
Miserables," called " Fantine "; this was prodaced in 
Detroit in 1864, The following year Howard came 
to New York, wrote for the Tribune and the Post, 
carried plays from manager to manager daring a 
period of five years, ontil in 1870 Augnstin Daly 
accepted and produced " Saratoga," which was im- 
mensely successful. From then on Howard's success 
was assured; "The Banker's Danghter," "Young 
Mrs. Winthrop," " The Henrietta," " Shenandoah," 
and " Aristocracy " were among the best-known and 
best-liked of American plays. Howard died at Avon- 
by-the-Sea, New Jersey, in 1908. 

Brander Matthews (in "An Appreciation") says: 

" Bronson Howard's career as a dramatist covered the 

transition period of the modern drama when it was 

changing from the platform-stage to the pictore-frame- 




stage. Hia immediate predecessor, Dion Boncicanlt, 
worked in accordance with the conditions of the plat- 
form-stage, witii its rhetorical emphasis, its confiden- 
tial soliloquies to the audience, and its frequent 
changes of scene in the course of the act. . . . When 
Bronson Howard began to write for the stege he ac- 
cepted the convenient traditions of the time, although 
he followed T. W. Robertson in giving only a single 
scene to each act. As a result of this utilisatioii of 
conventions soon to seem ootwom, certain of hia 
earlier plays appeared to him late in life incapable 
of being brought down to date, as tbey bad been com- 
posed in accordance with a method now discarded. 
. . . He moved with his time; and his latent plays, 
' Aristocracy' for one, and * Kate ' for another, are in 
perfect accord with the most modern formula. Yet 
he did not go as far as some other playwrights of 
to-day. He knew that the art of the theater, like 
every other art, can live only by the conventions which 
allow it to depart from the mere facts of life." How- 
ard deserves the title of " Dean of American Drama " 
because he was the first to awaken to the fact that 
in the America of his day there was material for an 
indigenous drama, and be did his best, in spite of 
French influences, to throw off the conventions of the 
{wrt and point a way to the future. 


FANTim (adapted from " Les Mis^ables," 1S64). 
Sasatoga (1870). 
DiAUONDB (1872). 



moorcroft (1874). 

Lilian's Last Lote (1877). 

Thi Bankbb's Daughter (revised rersioD of " Ull- 

an's Last Love," 1878). 
Old Love Letters (1878). 
Hubricahrb (1878). 
Wives (adapted from Moli^re, 1879)' 
Fun in a Green-Room (1882). 
Young Mrs. Winthrop (1882). 
One of Our Girls (1885). 
Met by Chance (1887). 
Tax Henrietta (1887). 
Baron Rudolph (1887). 
Shenandoah (1889)- 
Aristocracy (1892). 
Pkter Stuyvesant (in collaboratioD with Brander 

Matthews, 1899). 
Knave and Qubek (oever acted). 
Kate (DCver acted). 

" Young Mrs. Winthrop " and " Saratoga " are 
published by French; " Kate " by Harper's; the other 
plays have not been published. 

References: "In Memoriam: Bronson Howard" 
(New York, 1910) ; " The Autobiography of a Play " 
by Bronson Howard, with an introduction by Angnstus 
Thomas (Dramatic Museum of Columbia University) ; 
Montrose J. Moses, " The American Dramatist " 
(Little, Brown) ; Brander Matthews, " A Study of the 
Drama" (Houghton Mifflin); Richard Barton, "The 
New American Drama" (Crowell) ; Charlton An- 
drews, "The Drama To-day" (Lippincott). — Maga- 



xinei: Bookman, vol. z (p. IQS), vol. zxviii (p. 55); 
Centurg. vol. Izi (p. 88), vol. iii (p. 465) ; Minuey, vol. 
zzziv (p. ISS, p. igg) ; Theatre (London), Ang.,1879: 
Bool Buyer, vol. zvi (p, \IS); Independent, voL Ixi 
(p. 7S5), and vol. Ixv (p. 891) ; North American, voL 
clxzxviii (p. 501). 

■ Google 


A pUy in four acts. Tirat perfonned iq 1882. 

Of the three phiys of Howard which have been pub- 
lished, " Young Mrs. Winthrop " is probably the best 
and most typical. The dramatist's best and worst 
qualities are easily discernible. Like some of his 
contemporaries and many of his followers, Howard 
posaeased a. great deal of that essential kindliness, 
sympathy with the weaknesses of haman natnre, and 
sentiment which permeate the American theater. 
" Young Mrs. Winthrop " is a kindly sermon on the 
dangers and blessings of matrimony, besides being an 
ingratiating and human, perhaps too "human," 

1. Any play written in 1882 is likely to bristle 
with " asides,'* soliloquies, and other conventions 
which have since fallen into disfavor with drama- 
tists. This play opens with a soliloquy: 

Mri. Ruth, (L.)— There, Miss Dolly! (tying rib- 
bon on the doll and holding it up) you will have a 
beautiful mother to-morrow, and I shall be your grand- 
grandmother. Your name is to be ' Ruth ' — after ne 
— ^how do you like it? Your little mother has a very 
large family already, but I am sure she will love yon 



more than any of tiie rest (crotiet to R. by fire, kittea 
the dolt). Lie here, my pet (holding the doll to her 
breart). Yon muat go to aleep at once, for mother 
Rosie will be up very early in the morning. {Enter 
Douglar'), etc. 

A ^eat deal of labor is spared the dramatist by 
allowing his audience to know (1) who the char- 
acter present is, (S) what she is like, (3) a little 
of the situation. The first " aside " occurs on the 
next page (p. 4): 

Doug. {Hopping. Ande) — I asked Constance, not 
to go to-night. 

Again, an easy device. Then, on page 3d, there 
is another soliloquy: 

Enter Conitance, up L. 

Con». — Back again! {xvith a weary air, throwing 
atide her cloak. Pause). How quiet the house is! 
It's no use going to bed; I cannot sleep. I wish these 
" social gaieties " as they call them, could go on for- 
ever. No matter how much I go oat, or how bright 
the company is, it always ends in this; I am alone 
again, and I — I can't stop thinking. Oh ! — I wish I 
could! I wish I could! Mr. Chetwyn was at the re- 
ception this evening. Douglas sent him word he could 
not meet him at the club. He sent the message after 
receiving that note from Mrs. Dunbar — the was not 
there to-night! Oh! — why must I keep thinking — 



thmkiog? {itarting io her feet and Toomng C. 
Pautes). Perhaps I am wronging him. Yes. No — no 
— I will not believe it — I have not lost hi» love! 
There is something I do not understand? I will 
speak to Douglas about it in the morning, (^mtltn^.) 
It will all come right. I must get to sleep as soon as 
I can, to be up bright xnd early with Rosie. I will 
peep in at my little darling before I go to sleep. 
(Going toward door, R. 2 E.) 

It has often been said in defense of the " aside " 
and the soliloquy that since the drama is a series 
of conventions, why not accept these as well as 
that most necessary of conventions : the foreshort- 
ening of time? For over two thousand years these 
conventions have been accepted, why then should 
we cast them aside at this late date? The drama 
has changed radically during the past century, and 
is still developing at a rapid rate. With the 
change in subject-matter has come a correspond- 
ing change in manner of treatment: realistic sub- 
jects demanded realistic treatment. The " aside " 
is not natural, because it does not leem natural: 
people seldom or never turn their heads aside and 
utter words not intended to be heard by any one 
else; and when these words are spoken loudly 
enough to be overheard by a large audience, while 
the characters who must not hear them are within 
whispering distance of the speaker, the convention 
is too apparent. The uselessness of this particular 



coDvention is proved b; the fact that almost every 
aside in a play can be deleted, and the audience 
be none the less well informed as to what is going 
on. Test this in the present play. 

On the other hand, the soliloquy * is le^ti- 
mate. Ibsen in " A Doll's House " has made gen- 
erous use of it. People do soliloquize, often aloud ; 
even if they did not, it is not unnatural to hear 
a character give voice to thoughts, which must be 
near the surface, when he is alone on the stage. 
Do Hamlet's soliloquies seem unnatural ? Do 
Nora's in the Ibsen play just mentioned? 

S. Howard's modernity of spirit, his vision of 
the path to be taken by the play of the future was 
incontestably greater than his actual achievement : 
he pointed out the way for those who were to 
be technically more efficient than he, for those 
who were, living in a later generation, to treat of 
questions of the day. Augustus Thomas says of 
him (in " The Autobiography of a Play ") : 
" Some philosopher tells us that a factor of great- 
ness in any field is the power to generalize, the 
ability to discover the principle underlying appar- 

*"He [Bronson Howard] once said, half jokingly, to 
his collaborator in ' Peter Stuyvesant,' that, if be happened 
to write a play without a single soliloquy, he would be 
tempted to insert one, simply to retain the right to employ 
it when tt was required. It may be noted, however, that 
he did not carry this out, since his last comedy, * Kate,* 
is free from any soliloquy." — Brander Matthews in "An 
Appredation" ("In Memoriam: Bronson Howard"). 



gdUj discordant facts. Bronson Howard's plays 
are notable for their evidence of this power. He 
saw causes, tendencies, results. His plays are ex- 
positions of this chemistry. ' Shenandoah ' dealt 
broadly with the forces and feelings behind the 
Civil War ; ' The Henrietta ' with the American 
passion for speculation — the money-madness that 
was dividing families. * Aristocracy ' was a very 
accurate, although satirical, seizure of the disposi- 
tion, then in its strongest manifestation, of a 
newly-rich and Western family of native force to 
break into the exclusive social set of Xew York 
and to do so through a preparatory European 

What is the generalization in " Young Mrs. 
Winthrop"P Wherein lies its modernity? 

3, Often — too often in the American drama — 
the child is brought into the action of a play in 
order to attract the sympathy of the audience. 
David Belasco has done this in " The Return of 
Peter Grimm " with notable effect. How has 
Howard utilized the child-motif in this play? 



James A. Heme was born in 1839 at Cohoea, Nev 
York. After rec^viug a very rudimentary education 
be left home at the age of twenty and joined a thfrr 
atrical company in Troy, and began his actor's career 
in " Uncle Tom's Cabin." Soon after, he joined an- 
other company, played in Albany, then Baltimore, and 
at the age of thirty he became manager of the Nev 
York Grand Opera Haute. Leaving this situation, 
he became an actor again, and toured the country. 
His second marriage, in 1878, was a decisive point in 
his career: his wife. Miss Katherine Corcoran, helped 
and encouraged him to devote his time to the writing, 
rather than the acting of plays. His first play, 
" Hearts of Oak," was produced the year after his 
marriage. " Shore Acres," " Drifting Apart," " Tfae 
Minute Men," " Sag Harbor," written during the next 
twenty years, brought their author fame and a good 
A&re of suceess. Heme continued to act for many 
years. He died in 1901. 

Heme is a very important figure in American 
drama: in his melodramas there is a note of simplicity, 
of sympathy, of reality, which lifts them into the 
realm of true drama. In his most ambitions achieve- 
ments, " The Rev. Griffith Davenport " and " Mar- 
garet Fleming," there was said to be " tragic senti- 
ment," " f orcef nines ff," and " serious simplicity." 



Heme delighted and excelled in drawing rural t^es, 
and thoDgh he o«;asionally placed his characters in 
conventional settings and melodramatic situations, 
they were nearly always faithful and kindly por- 
trayals of life. His technic was " old-fashioned," bis 
ideas possibly antiqaated, according to modem stand- 
ards, bat be was a force, an influence, an ideal. 


Hearts of Oak (1679)- 
The Minute Men (1886). 
Dbiftino Apart (1888). 
-Marqaret Fleming (1890). 
Shorx Acres (1892). 
The Ret. Griffith Davenport (1899). 
Sao Harbor (1899). 

None of Heme's plays has been published. In a 
Are that destroyed the Heme home in 1909, the MSS. 
of " The Rev. Griffith Davenport " and " Margaret 
Fleming " were lost. 

References; Montrose J. Moses, "The American 
Dramatist " (Little, Brown) ; Richard Burton, " The 
New American Drama " (Crowell) ; Norman Hap- 
good, " The Stage in America " (Macmillan) ; Charl- 
ton Andrews, " The Drama To-day " (Lippincott) ; 
Lewis C. Strang, " Famous Actors of To-day in 
America" (Page). — Magaainet: Arena, vol. vi (p. 
401), vol. riii (p. S04), vol. xvii (p. 861), vol. xxvi 
(p. 882) ; Harper'i Weekly, vol. xliii (pp. 139, 213) ; 
Literature, vol. iv (p. 265); Harper't Magasine, vol. 
Ixxxiii (p. 478} ; National Magaeine, vol. xi (p. 39') ; 


«»0 JAMES A. HEfiNE 

Pall Mall Maganne, vol. xz (p. 28) ; Outlook, Dec. 
«8, 1918; Century, vol. Ixxxriii (p. 37*). 

NoTii — Since there is no printed copy of any 
Heme playi it is inadvisaUe to include a study out- 
line. For completeness' sake, however, and in case 
the play is ever published, there follow a few brief 
reEDarlu on " Shore Acres," 

Dpi,7?<iT,Googlc I 

A play in three acts. First performed in 1892> 

This play was, according to all accounts, an 
iDtensely " huoian," amusing, and, in places, ex- 
citing drama. The following quotations are 
illuminating ; the first is from Montrose J. Moses's 
" The American Dramatist," the second from a 
letter by Henry George: 

" Even in ' Shore Acres,' during the scene in 
which Urtcle Nat struggles with Martin in his 
effort to light the signal lamp, the sensational is 
very much in evidence; but the unerring art of 
Mr. Heme saved him from the accusation of in- 
tense, glaring melodrama. He understood thor- 
oughly the balance between tension and quietude, 
and there is no bit of stage writing more natural, 
more cheerful, and more real than the act which 
succeeded this violent one in * Shore Acres,* Uncle 
Nat preparing the Christmas stockings. Those 
who are fortunate enough to recollect the wonder- 
ful naturalness of Mr. Heme's acting, will always 
point to the final curtain of this play, where Uncle 
Nat, left alone on the stage, by the very flexibility 
of his facial expression, depicted the full beauty 
of his character, as he closed up the room for the 



Di^t, put out the lamps, and, lifted only b; 
the ^ow from the fire in the stove, slowly left the 
room as the cuckoo clock struck twelve. Such 
work, of which Mr. Heme as an actor was capable, 
is to a certain extent the realization of Maeter- 
linck's idea of static drama." 

" I cannot too much congratulate you upon 
your success. You have done what you sought to 
do — made a play pure and noble that people will 
come to hear. You have taken the strength of 
realism and added to it the strength that comes 
from the wider truth that realism fails to see ; and 
IB the simple portrayal of homely life, touched a 
umversdl chord. . . . Who, save you, can bring 
out the character you have created — a character 
which to others, as to me, must have recalled the 
tender memory of some sweet saint of God? '* 



Augustas Thomaa was born at St. Lonis, in 189d- 
He says (quoted in The Outlook, December 28, 191 8) : 
"After Farragat ran the New Orleans blockade my 
father took directioa of the St, Charles Theater in 
New Orleans, tbeo owned by Ben DeBar. When he 
returned to St. Louis in 1865, I was in my seventh 
year, and my earliest recollections ate tinged with 
his stories of Matilda Herron, John Wilkes Booth, 
and others who played in that theater. Father was 
an orator of considerable ability, and I remember him 
reciting long speeches from Kotzebne, Schiller, and 
Shakspere. In his associations with the theater he 
took me very early to plays, and I have always been 
an attendant; consequently dialogue seemed the most 
natural literary vehicle. I found later that this im- 
pression was justified when I discovered that the most 
telling things in Homer and later Greek poets and 
philosophers were in dialogue — that this was true of 
Confucius and Christ. I began writing plays when I 
was about fourteen years of age. When I was six- 
teen and seventeen, an amateur company that I or- 
ganized played in certain railway centers on the old 
North Missouri Railway for the beneiit of local unions 
of the workingmen. In 1883 I made a dramatiiation 
of Mrs. Burnett's ' Editha's Burglar.' With this as a 
curtain-raiser and a rather slap-stick farce called 



' Combustion,' I mode a tour of the country with a 
companj' that I organised, and with which I ran in 
debt several thousand dollars. In 1889 a four-act 
version of ' The Barglar,' arranged by me, was played 
in New York and was anccessfnl, and since that time 
my royalties have enabled me to give my attention on 
the business side exclusively to play- writing." 

Thomas is the most successful, skilful, and inter- 
esting of American dramatists of a former generation. 
Although be still writes plays, many of which have 
met with public approval, he belongs to the immediate 
past. " Ariiona," a melodrama of the West, is one 
of his typical works; even "The Witching Hour," a 
later play, is notable for the very qualities which went 
to the making of the earlier melodrama. Thomas is 
ingenious, he knows well the art of contriving moving 
stories, he knows the taste of the public and the re- 
quirements of the actor; but hia Ideas, while they are 
occaaionally very interesting, are not significanL He 
has little to do with characterization. He is important 
by reason of his cleverness, his zest in the externals 
of life. 


Editra'b Burglar (dramatisation from a story Ysj 

Mrs. Burnett, 1887). 
A Man of the World (1889). 
Beckless Temple (1890). 
Apterthoughtb (1890). 
Alabama (1691)- 
In Mizzoura (189S)- 



Thk Capitol (1894). 

New Blood (ISgi). 

The Man Upbtaibs (1895). 

Thk Overcoat (1898). 

The Hoobikh Doctor (1898). 

The Meddler (1898). 

Oliver Goldbuith (1900). 

Arizona (1900). 

On the Quiet (1901). 

Colorado (1901). 

SoLDiBRB OF Fortune (190S). 

The Eabi, of Pawtucket (1903). 

The Other Girl (1908). 

Mrs. Leffinowell's Bootb (1905). 

De Lancey (1905). 

The Embabst Ball (1905). 

The Ranger (1907). 

The Witching Hour (1907). 

The Harvest Moon (1909). 

The Member from Ozark (1910). 

Ab a Man Thinks (1911). 

The Model (1912). 

Mere Man (1913)- 

Indian Summer (1913). 

" Alabama " and " Arizona " are pRblisbed 1^ Ser- 
gei, Chicago; "The Witching Hour" by Honghton 
Miffiin in " Chief Contemporary Dramatists," and 
" As a Man Thinks " by Duffield. 

Beferences: Montrose J. Moaea, "The American 
Dramatist" (Little, Brown); Richard Burton, "The 
New American Drama " (Crowell) ; Charlton An- 



dt-eiTB, " The Drama To-day " (Lippincott) ; ArthuT 
BnM, " Second Nights " (Scribner) ; William Winter, 
"The Wallet of Time," Vol. II (Moffat, Yard).— 
Magaxinet: Comer"*, vol. Ixiv (p. 23); Outlook, vol. 
zciv (p. SIS); North American, vol. clxxxvii (p. 
801) ; Delineator, toI. Ixxiii (p. SSI) ; World'* Work, 
voL xviii; Harper"* Weekly, vol. y (p. IS); vol. xliv 
(p. 9*7); Muntey, vol. xxiv (p. 418); voL xxvii (p. 
923) ; Bookman, vol. ziv (p. 449), vol. sxziii (p. S52) ; 
Critic, vol. zliv (p. SOS) ; Sewanee Review, April, 



A play in fonr acts. First performed in 1907. 

In common with Clyde Fitch, Alfred Capns, and 
Sir Arthur Pinero, Augustas Thomas has always kept 
abreast of the times in the matter of modes, customs, 
and ideas. Probably his early jonrnalistic career 
taught him the value of being " alive," and he has 
ever recogniEed the advantage of producing a play 
the basic idea of which is in the public mind. It is 
said that " The Witching Hour " was kept for ten 
years " until the time was opportune." Montrose J. 
Moses in his " American Dramatist " quotes Thomas 
as saying: " ' The Witching Hour ' is a seizure of the 
general attention that is given to telepathy and allied 
topics. And under all that, lies my own theory, ex- 
pressed on more than one occasion, that the theater 
is a place for the visualizing of ideas — that the the- 
ater is vital only when it is visualizing some idea then 
snd at the time in the public mind. The theater is a 
vital part of everyday life; it is an institution, and 
as an institution it has a claim upon the popular 
attention principally in that fact. When it becomes 
a thing preservative, a mnsemn for certain literary 
forms, or a laboratory for galvanizing archaic ideas, 
it is almost useless, and seldom snccessfnl as a bosi- 
ness enterprise." 



1. For a number of years Thomas has refused 
to allow the present play to appear in print ; apart 
from certain practical reasons, he justly feared 
that a vehicle intended for production on the 
stage by actors, supported by scenery and 
" props " and lights, in which there was no at- 
tempt at '* galvanizing archaic ideas," would not 
well survive the ordeal of being read. Very often 
good dialogue will suffer when perused in the 
library — dialogue that is interesting and effective 
on the boards; it is very doubtful whether George 
Cohan's " Get -Rich-Quick Wallingford " or 
" Broadway Jones " would be half so amusing in 
a book as they are in the theater. However, " The 
Witching Hour" may now be judged independ- 
ently of the footlights.* 

Few of the plays considered in the present vol- 

* In on interview Augustus 'Hiomia once said: "On 
f thf rhoice of words will depend very much the effective- 
ness of a play. The tone of them must change to suit the 
scene, the emotion. One way of creatin)^ humor is to use 
pompous or grandiloquent words. Emotion, on the other 
hand, keeps the words simple, very near the ground. Part 
of an audience might, fierhaps, get deep feeling from 
imusual and very precise words, but the audience ,is made 
up for the greater part of people who are not thus trained. 
And when you write for the audience you must write for 
the great average. You will then use the simple, pas- 
sionate words such as Arc, stars, hand, heart, root, rock, 
grave. In the same way you may simplify your words 
by omitting many. For instance, note the Increase in 
emphasis and force between, ' I wish you to go,' ' You 
must go,' ' Go !' and finally the simple opening of the door." 



ume sound so natural, so " everyday " as this. 
Note the very opening: 

Jo. — -Masaar Brook field. 

Jack ip^iUide, iefO— Well, Jo? 

Jo. — Mr. Denning, sah. 

Jack. — Ask Mr. Denning to come up. 

Jo. — Yes, sah. 

(Exit center. More talk and laughter, left.) 

(Jack enter* left. . . .) 

Jack (at door, left). — Lew ! I say — Lew — yon 
ladies escuse Mr. Ellinger a moment? 

Helen, Alice, Viola (ontiide).-~G\i — ^yes. Cer- 

Nothing could be more casual, yet there is an 
underlying art — skilfully concealing itself — which 
is typical of much of Thomas's best work. Rarely 
does he attempt to be " literary," often he tries 
to be the reverse, apparently through fear of be- 
ing thought "literary." Compare this dialogue 
with that of " Young Mrs. Winthrop " and of 
"The Liars." 

2. Thomas wished to write a play about tele- 
pathic phenomena and superstition ; and the exact 
form into which he was to cast his play must have 
suggested itself to him when he was thinking of 
the incidents which would illustrate his ideas. 
Since these situations would necessarily be of a 
startling and novel nature, it seemed inevitable that 
the play should fall into the category of melo- 



drama. Telepathy is too nev, the data are too 
scarce, to allow us to accept as matters of course 
Justice Prentice's " jessing " the price of the 
Corot (p. 880), or Clay's superstition about Tom's 
scarf-pin and the resultant murder (pp. S32-S3). 
The melodramatic form was inevitable. 

At what exact point in this first act are you 
aware that the play is to be a melodrama? What 
incident or incidents prove this? 

8. " The Witching Hour " is thoroughly 
American in spirit: the good and bad qualities of 
American drama are easily distinguished from page 
to page. Greneralizations in matters theatrical 
nowadays are especially fallible, yet it will not be 
amiss to say that the drama in the United States 
is as a rule conventional, over-sentimental, puri- 
tanical in that it rarely dares go to the root of 
life and comments on it with fearless and out- 
spoken sincerity ; it is, on the other hand, " live," 
moving, interesting as a transcript of the every- 
day externals of life. The dialogue is usually 
good, idiomatic, and clever, although it rarely re- 
veals character. It is nearly always violent, ex- 
treme: melodrama and farce seem to be the favor- 
ite forms, and happy endings are practically 
indispensable. The American dramatist is a 
sentimentalist, although he seldom sentimentalizes 
over the deepest things in life — as a Frenchrnan 
does — love-scenes are usually short and " snappy ** 



— an American dislikes showing his feelings — 
while little children, old mothers, and " pals " in 
" crooked deals," supply more sentimental mate- 
rial than half a dozen love-affairs to a Frenchman 
or a deserted mistress to Schuitzler. 

Notice the first love-scene in " The Witching 
Hour " : the actual proposal and its casual an- 
nouncement (p. 328): 

Clag. — ^Always you when I think about a real bouse, 
you bet — a bouse for me — and you'll be there, won't 
you? (Takes her in kit armi.) 

Viola.— Will I? 

Ciay.— Yes— say, " I will." 

Viola.— I will. 

{Re-enier Alice and Helen.) 

Alice (attonithed). — Violal 
(Alice goet left.) 

Clay. — I've asked her — mother. 

Alice. — Helen, yon knew? 

Helen. — Yes. 

Clag {to Alice). — And I asked Jack, too. 

Alice. — You mean 

Clag. — We're engaged — if you say it's all right. 

Alice. — ^And you — Viola? 

Viola (nodding). — Yes-* 

Here are the barest outlines; not a trace of 
passion, and what feeling there is must be ex- 
pressed by tiie actors. How different from the 
long pages of Donnaj's " Lovers " or Schnitzler's 



" Liebelet " ! If the love-making of the average 
American on the stage is strange, the other sort 
of sentimentalizing is none the less unaccountable. 
On page 329, where there should be none of the 
poetry and passion of youth, we find another pro- 
posal — twenty years after the first — where the 
lover appears to be retrospectively sentimental: 

Jack. — Wouldn't it be a pretty finish if yon took 
m; band and I could walk right np to the camera 
and say, "I told yon so" — ? You know I always 
felt that you were coming back. 

Helen. — Oh, did you? 

Jack (^playfully, and going right center). — Had a 
candle burning in the window every night. 

Helen. — You're sure it wasn't a red light? 

Jack (remonitTating). — Dear Helen! have some 
poetry in your composition. Literally " red light," 
of course — but the real flame was here — (hand on 
breatt) — a flickering hope that somewhere — somehow 
— somewhen I should be at rest — with the proud 
Helen that loved and — rode away. 

Helen (_almott aceutingly'). — I — believe — you. 

Jack. — Of course you believe me. 

4. There are many episodes, incidents, and plota 
begun in the first act. Study this act carefully 
and trace each of the important references to 
superstition and telepathy, each of the "love- 
scenes," the murder, etc., and notice how each is 
further developed in the play. Is the first act too 
crowded? What is its unity? Who is the villain? 



William Gillette was bom at Hartford, Connecticut, 
in 1855. He was carefully educated, attended college 
at Yale and Harvard and the Massachusetts Fine Arts 
Institnte. " It seems that as far back as nursery days 
the boy owned his miniature theater, and was qoick 
in his mechanical inventions." His first appearance 
as an actor was made in 1875, and he still acts, for the 
most part in his own plays. His first play, " The 
Professor," was written in 1881. 

Like many other American dramatists, G0ette is 
clever, amusing, technically efficient, and interesting, 
but not significant or illuminating. (A polished and 
intelligent actor, be knows well the requirements of 
the stage, and for over thirty years he has given the 
public what it wanted.\ His Civil War plays — espe- 
cially " Secret Service ' and " Held by the Enemy " 
— are among the best American plays yet written, 
while " Too Much Johnson " and " Sherlock Holmes," 
the one a farce, the other a detective play, are justly 
estimated as among the best of their type this conn- 
try has seen. { 


Thk Pbofehhor (1881). 

EsHERALDA (in collaboration with Mrs. Bnntett, 



Held bt the Enemy (1886). 

A Leoal Wbzck (1888). 

Mr. Wilkinson's Widows (1891)> 

NiNEiT Days (1893). 

Too Much Johnson (1894). 

Secret Service (1896). 

Sherloce Holmes (1899). 

Clarice (1905). 

That Little Affair at Botd's (1908). 

The Robber (1909). 

Among TniETSS (1909). 

Electricity (1910). 

There are, besides the above, six or eight adapta- 
tions, translations, and dramatizations, and one vaude- 
ville sketch. 

" Esmeralda," " Held by the Enemy," " Too Much 
Johnson," and " Secret Service " are published by 
Samnel French; " Electricity " in The Drama, Nov., 
1918. i/ 

References: Montrose J. MmcSj " The American 
Dramatist " (Little, Brown) ; Ricbar^J^rton, " The 
New American Drama" ( Crow ell ) ; Charlton An- 
drews, " The Drama of To^iay " (Lippincott); 
Brander Mgjtliews, " Stndy of the Drama " (Hough- 
ton Mifflin). — Magasinei: Drama, Nov., 1913; Book- 
ttian, vol. xsxii (p. 594) ; Everybody'*, vol. zxzil (p. 
237) ; O^tlooie, vol. cii (p. 947). 



A war drama in five acts. First performed in 1886. 

" Held by the Enemy " is pure amusement There 
Is no " idea," as in " The Witching Hour," no thesis 
or problem; it is merely a vehicle for the telling of 
an exciting fftory of arms and a love-affair. 

1. There are very few war plays which concern 
themselves solely with the war : nearly always there 
is some personal plot, usually a love-story, running 
through it. One of the most famous of war plays, 
Sardou's " Patrie ! " (published in the " Drama 
League Series," Doubleday, Page and Co.), makes 
use of the war element as a dramatic bactground 
to a personal drama of love and honor; Clyde 
Fitch's " Nathan Hale " is treated in somewhat 
the same manner ; likewise Gillette's " Secret Ser- 
vice." Is " Held by the Enemy " a war play with 
an element of love interest, or a love-story with a 
war background? 

Why does Gillette start this play with a per- 
sonal episode? Why not begin with the military 

/ 2. The influence of the actor on the drama has 
ever been an important consideration to the drama- 



list. In his " Study of the Drama " Professor 
Matthews mentions numerous plays which either 
came into existence or were modified to their pres- 
ent form as a result of the dramatist's collabora- 
tion with his actors. He quotes Legouv^ to the 
effect that *' dramatists did well to study the quali- 
ties of the contemporary actors, but . . . there 
was a more constant advantage in availing one's 
self also of the defects of these performers — * since 
their merits might abandon them, whereas their 
faults would never leave them.' " In Montrose J. 
Moses's " The American Di^atist " the author in 
speaking of Gillette says, r But he is distinctively 
unemotional. Even in simptt4ove scenes ... he 
makes appeal through the sentiment of situation, 
through the exquisite sensitiveness of outward de- 
tail, rather than throu^ romantic attitude and 
heart fervor." This may well account for the lack 
of passion in the present play. Gillette has acted 
in nearly all his own plays, and the principal parts 
must of course be in accord with his own qualities. 
Possibly when Thomas wrote " The Witching 
Hour " he was well aware of the ability and short- 
comings of his actors. 

" Held by the Enemy " and " The Witching 
Hour " must be read rather as skeletons or scena- 
rios upon which the actors must elaborate, than 
rounded wholes, like the plays of Shaw and 
Barrie. American dramatists write with no other 



idea than that of stage presentation, the English 
write both for the stage and the library. 

3. Gillette is a disciple in the " well-made 
plajs " school. His melodramas have sometimes 
been criticised for their geometrical symmetry. In 
what way are they symmetrical? Are they too 
nicely balanced? Compare them with Brieux's 
" The Three Daughters of M. Dupont " and Her- 
vieu's " The Labyrinth." 

4. Is there any attempt at individual character- 
ization, or are the personages all types? Is the 
actor given much leeway? 

5. It is interesting to compare the utterances of 
practising dramatists on the subject of their art. 
Augustus Thomas expressed himself (p. 238) as 
a playwright of and for the masses, and Gillette's 
statement differs little in essence :\" We find that 
public honest and straightforward with us always, 
ever ready to be moved by what is true and lifelike 
and human, provided it be made interesting ; ever 
ready to reject the false and artificiall even though 
it be festooned with literary gems." 



Clyde Fitch vas born at Elmira, New York, in 
1865. He went to college at Amherst; immediately 
after bis graduation he began writing: at first, light 
poems, then short stories and sketches. In 1890 be 
began his career as a dramatist with the romantic 
" Beau Brummel," written for Richard Mansfield. 
He continued his successful career for nearly twenty 
years, dying in 1909, at Ch&lona-sur-Mame, in France, 

Fitch was a clever and ingenious writer of com- 
edies, picturing for the most part the life of the 
" apper classes " in New York. His facility, his 
power of observation of externals, his constant appli- 
cation to what was curious and amusing in life rather 
than what was significant, added to an inherent lack 
of concentration, prevented his being a man of genius. 
His ideas on the drama have been best expressed by 
himself: " I feel myself very strongly the particular 
value — a value which, rightly or wrongly, I can't help 
feeling inestimable — in a modern play, of reflecting 
absolutely and truthfully the life and environment 
about us; every class, every kind, every emotion, every 
motive, every occapation, every business, every idle- 
ness! Never was life so varied, so complex. . , . 
Take what strikes you most, in the hope it will inter- 
est others ; take what suits you most to do — what per- 
haps you can do best, and then do it better. Be 



truthful, and then nothing can be too big, nothing 
should be too small, so long as it ia here and there. 
... If you inculcate an idea into your play, so 
much the better for your play and for yon and for 
your audience. In fact, there is small hope for your 
play 83 a play, if yon have not some idea in it, some- 
where and somehow, even if it is hidden. It is some- 
times better for you if it is hidden, but it must of 
course be integral. . . . One should write what one 
sees, but observe under the surface- It ia a mis- 
take to look at the reflection of the sky in the water 
of theatrical convention; instead, look up and into the 
sky of real life itself." 


Beau Brdukbl (1890). 

Bkttt'b Fimish (1890). 

Frederic Leuaitre (1890). 

A Moderk Match (Marriage) (1891). 

Pamela's Prodiqt (1891). 

The Social Swim (1893). 

His Grace de Grahhont (189*). 

April Weather (1894). 

Gossip (in collaboration with Leo Dietrichstein, 

A Superfluous Husband (in collaboration with tlie 

same, 1897). 
Nathan Hale (1898). 
The Moth and the Fi.ame (1898). 
Th8 Cowboy and the Lady (1899). 
Barbara Fribtchie (1899). 



Thk Clihbirb (1900). 

Captain Jinkb or thi Hoksk Marinkb (190I). 

Lotmb' Lame (1901). 

Thk Last of the Dandies (19OI). 

The Way of the Wobld (1901). 

The Girl and the Judqe (1901). 

The Stubbornness of Geraldinb (1903). 

The GiBi. with the Grben Eyes (1902). 

The Bird in the Cage (1903). 

Her Own Way (1903). 

Glad of It (I90S). 

Major Anor£ (1903). 

Thk Cobonet of a Ddchesb (1904). 

Granny (igOl). 

Cousin Billy (1904). 

The Woman in the Case (1904). 

Her Great Match (1905). 

WoLFTiLLE (1905). 

The Girl Who Hah Etertthino (1906). 

TheTbuth (1906). 

The Straight Road (1906). 

Her Sister (1907). 

GiBLi (I9O8). 

A Happy Marriage (1909). 

The Bachelor (1909). 

The City (1910). 

There are, besides these, a Dumber of adaptations 
and dramatizations. 

" Pamela's Prodigy " is published by Allen, New 
York (out of print) ; " Nathan Hale " is published 
by Baker, Boston. " Barbara Frietehie," " Bean 



Bnunmel," " The Climbers," " Captain Jinks of the 
Horse Marines," " The Stabbonmess of Geraldine," 
" The Girl with the Green Eyes," " Her Own Way," 
"The Truth" are published by Samuel French; 
" The Truth " is also included in " Chief Contem- 
porary Dramatists" (Houghton Mifflin). 

Rkferences: Montrose J. Moses, "The American 
Dramatist" (Little, Brown), "Clyde Fitch: A Trib- 
ute," in Fitch's " A Wave of Life " (Kennerley) ; 
Richard Burton, " The New American Drama " 
(Crowell) ; L. W. Strang, " Plays and Players of 
the Last Quarter Century " ; Charlton Andrews, " The 
Drama To-day " (Lippiscott) ; William Archer, 
" PlaymaUng " (Small, Maynard) ; Brander Mat- 
thews, " A Study of the Drama " (Houghton Mifflin) ; 
Archibald Henderson, " The Changiug Drama " 
(Holt); Archie BeU, "The Clyde Fitch I Knew" 
(Broadway Pub. Co.) ; Walter Prichard Eaton, " At 
the New Theater, and Others " (Small, Maynard) ; 
Arthor Ruhl, " Second Nights " (Scribner). — Maga- 
zines: Nation, vol. Ixzxiv (p. 526) ; Independent, vol. 
Ixvii (p. 183) ; Scribner't, vol. Ixvii (p. 490) ; Theatre, 
vol. vii (p. 14) ; Putnam't, vol. vii (p. 244) ; Harper't 
Weekly, vol xlvi (p. 80); Book Buyer, vol. xvii (p. 
118), vol. ivi (p. 828); Current lAterature, vol. xlvii 
(p. 552), vol. xlvii (p. 362); Bookman, vol. zxx (p. 
135), voL xsiii (p. 6S); Literary Digett, vol. sxxix 
(p. I7l), vol. xxxiv (p. 437) ; Dramatic Mirror, Sept. 
18, 1909;FDraiB, vol. xlv (p. 221); Criiic, vol. xxxviii 
(p. 325). 

(During the present year, 1915, Little, Brown and 



Co. are to publish a Memorial Edition of Fitch's 
playa. Three plays, hitherto unpublished, will be 
added: "The City," "Lovers' Lane," and "The 
Woman in the Case." There will be critical and his- 
torical material by Montrose J. Moses and by Fitch 



A play io foor acts. First performed in 1906. 

" The Truth " ia probably Clyde Fitch's most con- 
sistent and best-suHtained play. There is in it less of 
the amusingly irrelevant, and more study and observa- 
tion of character than in even " The Girl with the 
Green Eyes " or " The Climbers." The universality 
of theme, unity, and sincerity, is evidenced by the fact 
that the play has been successfully produced in Eng- 
land and in many countries of the Continent. Usually, 
Fitch was wont to rely on his instinct and upon some 
novel device independent of the integral action of the 
play — like the scene in the Vatican in " The Girl 
with the Green Eyes " or on the deck of the steamer 
in " The Stubbornness of Geraldine " — ^but in " The 
Truth " there is a conscious discarding of the non- 

1. Fitcfa's sense for externals is manifested on 
page 4: 

Mrt. Lindon. — . . . Becky! One of my oldest 
friends ! One of my bridesmaids ! 

itfotiro.— What! 

Mrt. Lindon. — No, she wasn't, but she might have 
been J she was my next choice if any one had backed 



This is amusing, and it tells something of one 
character — the speaker. It is a mot de caractire. 
Still, it tells nothing very deep or very significant. 
Later on, Mrs. Lindon's character is developed, but 
there is nothing very startling or new that ve 
leam of her. In the first act is there any distinct 
or notable bit of information given as to any of 
the characters? What of Becky herself? 

As the play progresses, notice by what means 
the character of Becky is built up. Is it through 
situations, by dialogue, or through the converga- 
titm of others? 

ft. The lie has ever been a fruitful source of 
dramatic material : Ibsen has dramatized it in most 
of his social dramas; Henry Arthur Jones — in 
" The Liars " and " The Lie," and Maurice Don- 
nay in " The Free Woman " — have written effect- 
ive pieces around men and women who lie to attain 
certain ends, and fail. Has this play of Fitch's 
points in common as to treatment with any of the 
plays here referred to? What is the dramatic, the 
" theatrical," essence of " The Truth "? How 
has the author extracted what is most interesting 
and appealing from his theme?- 

Fitch's words (quoted on pp. 248-49 of the pres- 
ent volume) regarding underlying ideas in plays 
are pecuharly apt: " If you inculcate an idea into 
your play so much the better for your play and 
for you and for your audience. . . . It is some- 



times better for you if it is hidden, but it must of 
course be integral ..." Is Fitch's idea hid- 
den? Is it integral? 

3. The American habit of bringing a play to 
a happy ending is a result of the intellectual youth 
of the country. The average audience has not yet 
come to the point where it will unflinchingly ac- 
cept the logical consequences of a situation. 
Eugene Walter in " The Easiest Way " has dared 
to draw his tragic play to its ruthless and only 
possible close, but he succeeded only in spite of this 
fact, by reason of deft craftsmanship. No one 
objects to the happy ending of a happy play; the 
fault lies with the dramatist who begins with a sit- 
uation and characters from which only evil or 
tragedy can come. Bernard Veiller's " Within the 
Law," George Broadhurst's " Bought and Paid 
For,'* both began with interesting and serious prob- 
lems, but each dramatist, either because he was in- 
capable of sustained thinking and reasoning power 
— which is unlikely — escaped from his main theme, 
and allowed his play to drift on the current of 
amusing but utterly inconsequential circumstances. 

If a dramatist introduces a certain character 
eariy in the play with the idea of changing the 
mind and spirit of that character, he must motivate 
each acti(Hi and account for the character at the 
end of the play. If Ibsen wished to show Nora 
as a doll in the first act of " A Doll's House," and 



a mature and thinking woman in the last, he must 
adduce convincing proofs of the metamorphosis. 
Henry Arthur Jones, in " The Crusaders " and 
" Dolly Reforming Herself," ridicules the attempts 
of would-be reformers to accomplish their ends 
over-night, as it were: the ** crusaders," in the one, 
and Dolly and her friends in the other, are sadder 
and wiser at last, but they are no nearer to refor- 
mation than when the curtain first rose. In Her- 
mann Bahr's " Das Konzert " the philandering 
artist will, we are positive, continue to give " con- 
certs " as long as he is so inclined ; in Leo Diet- 
richstein*s American version, called " The Con- 
cert," the amiable pianist assures his wife that he 
will " give no more concerts." Very often a drama- 
tist will throw a sop to his exigent audience, but at 
the same time add a " tag " showing that the 
" lived happily ever after " is but the merest con- 
vention. Hubert Henry Davies' " The Mollusc " 
is a case in question : Tom's words, which close the 
play, are: *' Were those miracles permanent cures? 
(Shakeg hit head.) We're never told! We're 
never told 1 " This is legitimate, like the happy 
ending to a fairy-story, but when the inexorable 
logic of life demands truth, and the dramatist de- 
liberately distorts the truth, the play is false. 

Study carefully the last act of " The Truth," 
determining exactly how genuine is Becky's " con- 
' whether the author intended his audience 



to accept the d£nowment, or whether he intended 
the closing lines to put the audience in a good 
humor. Notice, however, the extreme cleverness 
of the end: 

Bech^. — Yon can't forgive me! 

Warder. — We don't love people because the^ are 

(He take* ker two trembling handt in hit, and 

the rites.) 

Beciy.— Tom! 

Warder, — We love them because they are them- 



William Vanghn Moody was bom at Spencer, 
Indiana, in 1869. He waa edncated at Harvard. For 
some yeara he wrote poems and poetic dramas, while 
be filled the position of professor of English at the 
University of Chicago. " The Great Divide " — 
originally " A Sabine Woman " — was produced in 
1906. " The Faith Healer," a failare, was produced 
three years later. Moody died in 1910. 

Moody is a man of one play, yet so full of promise 
was " The Great Divide," so American in the b^ 
sense, that his early death cannot but be the source 
of the deepest regret. He had within him the instinct 
of the dramatist, together with the conscience and 
taste of an artist. The poet in him felt the romance 
and beauty of the East and West in America, and he 
combined felicity of language with stirring incidents 
and an interesting if qaestionsblc problem. In " The 
Faith Healer" he was led astray by an idea; still, 
the play waa an advance in so far as it sdiowcd greater 
unity and a firmer grasp of hia idea than did " The 
Great Divide." Moody took American drama where 
Thomas left it, and pointed a way at least to what 
possibilities lay beyond. 

The Great Divide (1906). 
The Faith Healer (1909). 



Both these are pablished in " Poems and Plays of 
William Vanghn Moody/' Vol. II (Honghton Mifflin). 
" The Great Divide " is included in " Chief Conteitt- 
porary Dramatists" (Houghton Mifflin). 

Rbfebenckb: Montrose J. Moaes, "The American 
Dramatist " (Little, Brown) j Richard Bnrton, " The 
New American Drama " (CroweU) ; Charlton An- 
drews, " The Drama To-day " (Lippincott) ; William 
Archer, " Playmaking " (Small, Maynard) ; Archi- 
bald Henderson, " The Changing Drama " (Holt) ; 
Arthnr Ruhl, " Second Nights " (Scribner) ; Frank 
Wadleigh Chandler, " Aspects of Modem Drama " 
(Macmillan) ; " Some Letters of William Vanghn 
Moody" (Houghton Mifflin); Edwin Herbert Lewis, 
" WilliAm Vanghn Moody " (Chicago Literary Club) ; 
J. M. Manly, Introduction to collected Houghton Mif- 
flin edition. — Magaztnet: Drama, May, 1911; Did, 
vol. xlvii (p. 880), vol. liii (p. 484) ; Nal^n, vol. xci 
(p. 852); Independent, vol. Ixxiv (p. 814); Vniver- 
titg of Chicago Magaxine, vol. v (p. 152); Yale Re- 
vUw, vol. ii (p. 688) ; Bookman, vol. xzxii (p. 249). 



A play in three acts. First performed in 1906. 

" The Great Divide " is ■ psychological character- 
stndy with a Western bockgronnd during ^rt of the 
action, and its very antithesis — New ^^ ■ 3 — for 
the rest Its value as an acting pl^ is atteatM by the 
fact that for at least two years it enjoyed great snc* 
cess in the large cities and on the rood, and is still 
a stock favorite. 

1. As in *' King Lear," the first act of this play 
contains a climactic scene, after which there is a 
decided fall, a relaxing of dramatic tension, and ' 
an explanation. The case comes first, then t}ie 
discussion and the problem. In Shakspere's play i 
the acti<» rises again to a still higher pitch of ten- 
sion; is this 80 in " The Great Divide "? William 
Archer, in " Flaymaking," criticises the play be- 
cause, " after the stirring first act," it '* is weak- 
ened by bur sense that the happy ending is only 
being postponed by a violent effort. We have been 
assured from the very first — even before Ruth Jor- 
dan has set eyes on Stephen Ghent — that just such 
a rough diamond is the ideal of her dreams . . . 
the author has taken such pains to emphasize the 
fact that these two people are really made for each 



other, that the answer to the question is not for a 
moment in doubt, and we become rather impatient 
of the obstinate sulkiness of Ruth's attitude." 
The criticism is just enough, but there is a graver 
one: not only is the audience impatient as to the/ 
psychological development, but the action drags. 
How could the dramatist have remedied the defect? 
S. It i« natural that the prose work of a poet 
should «. .r »'>ue impress of his feeling for the 
beauty of language. The style of this play is on 
the whole literary in the dramatic sense: that is, 
it is in accordance with the character of the speak- 
ers. Into the mouth of the refined Ruth the drama- 
tist has legitimately put many beautiful speeches, 
but as these are revelatory of her mind and tem- 
perament they are not out of place. This sense of 
literary effect has been admirably combined with 
the purely theatrical in the first act (pp. 290-91, 
*' Chief Contemporary Dramatists ") : 

What a lovely night! Who woaH ever think to 
call this a desert, this moonlit ocean of flowers? What 
millions of cactns blooms have opened since yesteFday! 

And later on ; after she sings the three verses of 
the song: 

Be still, yon beanties ! Tonll drive me to distrac- 
tion with yonr color and yonr odor. I'll take a host- 
age for yoor good behavior. 



(S&e ttleeti a red flower, putt il in the dark iruu$ 
of her kair, and look* out at the open door.) 
What a scandal the moon is making, out there in 
that great crasy Totld ! Who but me eonld think of 
deeping on snch a night? 

(_She lit* don>n, foldt the flomert tn her armt, 
and burUt her face in them.') 

Add to this the effective contrast of the follow- 
ing scene, and there can reoiain no doubt that this 
is the work of a man of the theater. 

3. After such an act there could come only an 
anti-climax ; the explanation and development fol- 
lowing the big scene would probably have been 
much more interesting had it not been for the 
graphic and exciting first act. How does the 
author seek to arouse interest and create suspense 
againP Is the end of the second act sufficiently 
tense to force the audience to await impatiently 
the rise of the curtain on the final actP What of 
the last act itself? Is the happy ending logical? 
Compare it with the endings of " Young Mrs. 
Winthrop " and " The Witching Hour," 



Percy Mackaye was bom at New York City, in 
1875. He is the aon of Steele Mackaye, author of 
" Hazel Kirke." He graduated from Harvard, where 
he was a. student nnder Professor Baker. A poet of 
taste and feeling, he has written a number of poetic 
dramas, a few prose comedies and fantasies, most of 
which have been produced, though none with any con- 
siderable degree of commercial success. 

Mackaye possesses what most American dramatists 
lack: a definite ideal. He lacks what Thomas and 
Fitch and Gillette have to a marked degree: a sense 
of the theater. He writes well, too well in places, 
for his dialogue is often "literary"; his sense of 
construction is occasionally faulty, and many of his 
plays tend to drag. Still, bis influence is beneficial, 
hia ideals are erure to bear fruit, and he may yet write 
what he has twice come near to writing: a true Amer- 
ican comedy. " Jeanne D'Arc " and " Sapho and 
Phaon " are good closet dramas, " Mater " is a de- 
lightful prose satire, " Anti-Matrimony " delicate 
high-farce, and " The Scarecrow " nearly a master- 
piece of imaginative writing, while " A Thousand 
Years Ago " — an Oriental fantasy — is as delightful 
as anything of its kind written in recent years. 
Mackaye is also a lecturer and writer on matters 
pertaining to the stage. 




ThT CAHTZaaDBT PlLQBnil (1908). 
JrANHK D'Abc (I906). 
Fenbii thb Wolf (1903). 
Sapho and Phaon (1908). 
Matbb (igio). 

The Scarecrow (1910). 
Anti-Matrihont (1910). 
Yankee Fantasies (one-«ct plays) (1911)' 

TO-MOBROW (191s). 

A Thousand Yeam Aso (I9I4). 

(" The Canterbury Pilgrims " was not prodaced 
nntil 1909; " Fenris the Wolf" and "To-morrow" 
have not yet been professionally produced ; same of the 
" Yankee Fantasies " have been privately produced. 
The dates of these plays refer to publication.) 

" Jeanne D'Arc," " Fenris the Wolf," " Sapho 
and Phaon," " Mater," " The Canterbury Pilgrims," 
and "The Scarecrow" are published by Macmillan; 
" Yankee Fantasies " by Duffield; " Anti-Matrimony " 
and "To-morrow" by Stokea; and "A Thousand 
Years Ago " in the " Drama League Series " by 
Doubleday, Page. " The Scarecrow " is included in 
" Chief Contemporary Dramatists " (Houghton Mif- 

References: Montrose J. Moses, "The American 
Dramatist " (Little, Brown) ; Richard 3nrton, " The 
New American Drama " (Crowell) ; Brander 
Matthews, "A Study of the Drama" (Houghton 
Mifflin) ; Charles Wadleigh Chandler, " Aspects of 



Modern Drama " (Macmillau) ; Charlton Andrews, 
" The DrasQa To-day " (Lippincott) ; Percy Mackaye, 
"The Playhouse and the Play" (Macmillan), and 
"The Civic Theater" (Kennerley). — Magazines: 
Outlook, vol. IxxxT (p. 802), vol. cii (p- 958) ; North 
American, vol. clxzzviii (p. 404) ; Current Literature, 
vol. xlv (p. 554) ; Scribner's, vol. xlvi (p. 28) ; Book- 
man, vol. xxxii (p. 849), vol. zxxvi (p. 12). 



" A tragedy of the ludicrous." A pky in four acts. 
First performed in IdlO. 

" The Scarecrow " is foonded npoQ Havthome's 
story of " Feathertop." The play is by no me&ns a 
dramatisation, bat as independent work of which only 
the skeleton was taken from Hawthorne. Percy Mac- 
kaye's ideas, his literary sense, his dramatic feeling, 
are nowhere so much in evidence as in " The Scare- 
crow": here is effective drama — no one who saw the 
production in 1910 can doubt it — an interesting theme, 
well worked out, and skilful handling of such exter- 
nals as will attract and bold. 

1. Mackaye was wise in making as direct and 
visible an appeal as possible in his first act: the 
mysterious blacksmith shop, the " homed and 
tailed " devil, the suggestion of witchcraft, all tend 
to create an atmosphere proper for the unfolding 
of the plot and exposition of ideas. The poet does 
not actually begin his plaj until the external ap- 
peal has been definitely made. 

What dramatic, as distinct from literary, ex- 
pedients are used in this first act to accomplish 
the ends just mentioned? 




8. The idea of the play is not at first easy to 
define : there is first the " mirror of truth " epi- 
sode, then the Justice Merton and Goody Rickby 
story, and so on. These finally mould themselves 
into an harmonious whole, which eventually yields 
the theme of the play. But each individual thread 
of action is developed in a leisurely manner. Tn 
the second act, for example, there is none of the 
usual American haste — no " punch," no purely 
theatrical situations: the poet has found a suit- 
able vehicle for drama as well as for poetic 
prose. Does he ever .allow his theme or his lik- 
ing for the purely literary to interfere with the 
dramatic development of the story ? If so, 
where P 

3. The climax at the end of the third act is ac- 
cording to the formulas of the well-made play: in 
its proper place. From the somewhat loose begin- 
ning of the second act, trace the process whereby 
the dramatist has brought his unusual play to a 
usual climactic point. Does he eliminate or relegate 
to the background threads of interest which are not 
ao important as the main one — as Jones does in 
" The Liars " — or does he temporarily thrust the 
important ones into the foreground, asking the 
andience to accept it for the time being? 

4. Consider the last act in the light of its ef- 
fectiveness as a stage play; is there too much 
theme, and insufficient action? 



Why does Havensbane die at the end? The laet 
two speeches are: 

Richard {bending over Aim). — Dead! 
Rachel (with an exalted look). — But a manl ' 

Is this the " Tragedy of the Ludicrous "? 



Edward Sheldon waff bom at Chicago in 18S6. He 
attended college at Harvard, where he waa a member 
of Professor Baker's class in dramatic technic, and was 
graduated in 1907. After the prodnction of his first 
play, " Salvation Nell," hj Mrs. Fiske, hia success was 

Sheldon is a brilliant and talented young man with 
true dramatic instinct. Hia firat play, " Salvation 
Nell," is notable by reason of its minnte observation 
of externals; " The Nigger," because of its theme, 
came near to being a significant play; " The Boss " 
and " The High Road " are less interesting pictures of 
various phases of contemporaneous American life; 
while " Romance," as a story pure and simple, is one 
of the best-made plays of the day. Sheldon is enter- 
prising, and in each of his plays he experiments with 
form. He has a constant tendency toward the melo- 
dramatic, the conventional and the sentimental, but 
his solider gifts afford promise of something truly 
large and typically American. 

Saltation Nell (Id08). 
The Nioqek (1909). 
Trb Boss (1911). 
PUNCESB ZiH-Zui (I91I)- 



EOTPT (191s). 

Thi High Road (I912). 

RouANCE (I913). 

Thk Song or Sonoi (based opon Uie oorel of Her- 

mann Sndermaim, 1914). 
The Garden or PAaADtSE (I9IS). 

" The Nigger," " Romance," and " The Garden of 
Paradise " are published separately by Macmillan. 

Refirences: Montrose J. Moses, "The American 
Dramatist " (Little, Brown) ; Richard Burton, " The 
New American Drama" (Crowell); Frank Wadleigh 
Chandler, " Aspects of Modem Drama " (Macmillan) ; 
William Archer, " Playmaking " (Small, Maynard) ; 
Clayton Hamilton, " Studies in Stagecraft " (Holt) ; 
Walter Prichard Eaton, " At the New Theater, and 
Others " (Small, Maynard) ; Charlton Andrews, " The 
Drama To-day" (Lippincott). — Magazine*: Current 
Opinion, vol. Uv (p. S79) ; Outlook, vol. cii (p. 9*7) ; 
BoaJcman, voL xxx (p. 4-6S), vol. xzzvii (p. 8O6), vol 
xl (p. 637) ; New Republic, vol. i (p. 23). 


A play in three acts, a prologue, and an epilogue. 
First performed in 1913. 

" Romance " is the moat close-knit and logical of 
tliis dramatist's plays. While the subject-matter is not 
distiuctively American, the details, the development, 
and the point of view are indabitably so. 

1. From time to time, and of recent years espe- 
cially, a dramatist has set a pl^J within a play, 
or in some other manner arranged the time-scheme 
of his play, in order to achieve some novelty of 
eflfect, " Milestones " by Bennett and Knoblauch 
has three acts, the first of which takes place in 
the sixties, the second in the eighties, and the last 
in the year 1912. Sheldon's "The High Road" 
is in five acts, which cover a period of about twenty- 
five years ; George Cohan's dramatization of " The 
Seven Keys to Baldpate " is a play within a play ; 
" The Big Idea," by A. E. Thomas and Clayton 
Hamilton, is still another novelty in stagecraft; 
while " On Trial," by Elmer Reizenstein, tells a 
story in reverse chronological order. 

The value of this transposition of the time- 
scheme usually lies in tiie novelty, but — and thia 



is especially trae in the case of " On Trial " — ^the 
novelty soon wears off. There a commonplace 
melodramatic incident is made interesting only be- 
cause it is told in the reverse order ; the pleasure 
is felt only in seeing hoot it is done. Like a 
clever acrobatic feat, once it is over there is no 
desire to see it repeated. Where the device is not 
so novel and involved, as in " Milestones," or where 
it is more legitimately used, as in the plays of 
Cohan, A. E. Thomas, and Clayton Hamilton, more 
attention can be paid to the play itself. But as a 
matter of fact the unfolding of the past has been 
much more skilfully and naturally accomplished in 
many of the plays of Ibsen, and especially in Hjal- 
mar Bergstrom's powerful play, " Karen Borne- 
man." " Ghosts " and " Rosmersholm " accom- 
plish practically the same ends as does " On Trial," 
only there is no vitMe return to the past : it is un- 
folded by means of dialogue and its results are made 
manifest in the present. " On Trial " interests 
us only when the past is visibly returned to, with 
the result that it is made too vivid, and the proper 
perspective lost. The past cannot be so vivid as 
the present. In " Karen Bomeman *' the past rises 
up gradually; in fact, there is a great deal of 
exposition in the last act, but as the facts are 
made known as they would be in life itself, as a 
result of certain other facts, the audience keeps 
pace with the characters, and is never '* ahead of 



the game/' The only criticism to be made against 
such plays as " On Trial " is that their very nov- 
elty is 90on outworn, and that it is above alt 

" Romance " is the visuahzation of a story of 
the past. But as that story is the play, the pro- 
lo^e may be taken as incidental: as a frame for 
the principal action. However, had the story in 
the prologue been made more important, the intru- 
sion of the old man's story would have thrown 
into exaggerated relief what should have been only 
a detail. 

2. It has already been remarked that one of the 
vices of American drama is its sentimentality, 
and Edward Sheldon has not yet been able to 
escape it. Needless to say the very title of the 
play implies sentiment, and its theme demands 
vigorous treatment. Yet, on the stage or off, sen- 
timent is sentiment, and any exaggeration is false. 
In the third act we find the following speech of 

. . . Don't yon bear the midnight cry: "Behold 
The Bridegroom cometb. Go ye out to meet Him!" 
Don't yon see Him coming from the wilderness like a 
pillar of smoke, perfumed with myrrh and frankin- 
cense? His eyes are as a flame of fire, and on His 
head are many crowns. He wears a garment dipped 
in bJood and on it a name is written. Lord of Lords 
and King of Kings ! Hark ! He is outside knocking at 



your door! Kose of Sharon, Lily of the Valley, cease 
yoor Blnmber, for the hour has come I 

These words, to be sure, are put into the mouth 
of the passionate young rector, but it is a question 
whether the author was not striving to attain an 
effect independent of what the logic of the situa- 
tion required. In " The High Road " he at- 
tempted this, to the detriment of the truth of the 

Sheldon has always been lavish in the use of 
crowds, brass bands, and the like. These are of 
course always effective, but their constant use 
tends to weaken the effect of the play. At the 
end of " The Nigger," in the big act of " The 
Boss," and at the end of " The High Road," 
there are " mobs outside " ; what of these devices 
in "Romance"? The touch of melodrama which 
often nearly spoils an otherwise dramatic scene 
is painfully evident in the last act of the present 

(PaMte. They are both breathing dteplif. Tom, 
biting hit anderlip and never taking hit eye* off her 
face, it eranling toftly up on her other tide, crouched 
like a beait prepared to ipring upon her unaware. 
Then, in the tilence, jutt at he it ready to leap, it 
heard the firtt note of the midnight beU. The full, 
deep tonet itrike tolemnly and tlowly up to twelve. 
Then, at it continuet, the tound of a choir of men't 



voice; sturdy and tweet, it heard from far ateay, 
gradualli/ growing nearer. They are playing and ting- 
ing the old Lutheran hymn " Ein' fette Burg." At 
Tom heart them, he gradually ttraightens and hit old 
look and manner come back to him. He goei rather 
untteadily. He tiandt for a moment looking oat; then 
tumt to Rita, patting hit hand over hit forehead at 
one recovering from a dream.) 

Add to this the phonograph playing Caval- 
lini's songl 

3. Sheldon is rarely mistaken as to the effect 
he wishes to produce, and his plays are full of 
minor points which are admirably done : the quaint 
incident in " The Boss " where the principal char- 
acter buys the brooch and examines it; the scene 
in the Governor's office in " The High Road " ; 
most of the first act of " Salvation Nell," are 
peculiarly Sheldonian. These touches go far to 
create charm and build up character. What ex- 
amples are there in " Romance "P How far is 
the dramatist dependent upon them for the crea- 
tioa of his larger effects? 



Engene Walter waa born in 1876. He did re- 
portiDg on a Cleveland newspaper, then joined 
the New York Svn, and served in the annj. For 
some years he was advance agent for a nntnber of 
tbeatrical compames. For the past eight or nine 
years he has devoted himself eiclnslvely to the writ' 
ing of plays. 

Walter is a bom man of the theater. His plays 
are for the most part melodramatic situations k la 
Bernstein, welt developed, skilfully constnicted, em- 
ploying an American, background as a matter of 
coarse. He is little concerned with ideas or charac- 
terization. He is journalistic, violent, and nearly 
always interesting. His violence leads him at times to 
excesses, bat it sometimes drives him relentlessly into 
powerful and gripping sitoations. " Paid in Foil " 
and " The Easiest Way," in particular, are fearless in 
their logic, and the aathor has fortunately not ^ven 
in to the temptation to do violence to the logic of 
situation and character by making happy endings. 
" Fine Feathers " is uneven, but contains in the last 
two acts many scenes of high merit. Walter makes- 
no pretension to " uplifting " the drama, he possesses 
no literary sense, his ideal is solely that of supply- 
ing the stage with dramatic stories. 




The Undertow (1907). 

Sbbbeant Jaheb (1907). 

Paid in Full (1907). 

The Wolf (1908). 

The Eabiebt Wat (19O8). 

JuBT A WiM (1910). 

Boots and Saddles (from "Sergeant James," 1910). 

The Trail of the Lonesome Pine (1911). 

Fine Feathers (1912). 

None of the above has been published in play 
form, althongb " The Easiest Way " has been " novel- 
i«ed" (by A, Hornblow; G. W. Dillingham, pub- 

(Note: Walter is another dramatist, like Heme and 
Cohan and Klein, whose plays, not being obtainable, 
csimot be studied in connection with the present out- 
line. The novelization, however, contains practically 
all the dialogue, and the play itself is in some of ihe 
larger public libraries.) 

Refkbenckb: Montrose J. Moses, " The American 
Dramatist " (Little, Brown) ; Richard Burton, " The 
New American Drama " (Crowell) ; Charlt«n An- 
drews, " The Drama To-day " (Lippincott) ; Archi- 
bald Henderson, " The Changing Drama " (Holt). — ■ 
Magazine*: Harper's Weekly, vol. lii (p. 28); Cur- 
rent Literature, vol. liil (p. 44S) ; Bookman, vo]. xxxii 
(p. 294). 



A play in four acts. First performed in 1908. 

A comparison of " The Easiest Way " with Pinero's 
" Iris " immediately suggests itself, and a good deal 
might be said on the subject. However, whetiier Wal- 
ter was acquainted with the English play or not, he 
has treated a similar theme in a rather dissimilar man- 
ner. Pinero's story is occasionally subtle, always in- 
genious ; Walter's is direct, brutal, though undoabtedly 
stronger. Pinero's woman is universal and possibly 
laddng therefore in recognizably familiar tonches. 
Walter's is definitely " homan," particular, American. 

The style of dialogue in " Iris " is rarely collo- 
quial ; that in " The Easiest Way " is almost too 
much so. On page 9 (of the private edition of 
the play) Will says: 

Yes, it's been a mighty good two years for me. 
I was always proud to take yon around, becaase I 
think you one of the prettiest things in New York 
(^Laiira croase* R., and girliihly jumpi into armchair'), 
and that helps some, and you're always jolly, and 
you never complained. You always spent a lot of 
money, but it was a pleasure to see you spend it; and 
then yon never offended me. Most women offend men 




b; coming aronnd imtitiy and soit of unkempt, but 
somehow you always knew the valoe of yonr beauty, 
and yon always dressed up. I always thought that 
maybe some day the fellow would come along, grab 
yoD, and make yon happy in a nice way, but I thought 
that he'd have to have a lot of money. You know 
yoaVe lived a rather extravagant life for five years, 
Laura. It won't be an easy job to comedown to cases 
and sufTer for the little dainty necessitieB you've been 
used to. 

An intereBting contrast is afforded in a com- 
pariBon of the endings of the two plays (see p. SS, 
present volume). Walter ends his play as follows: 

Laura {tuddenty arouitng kertelf, and mtk a de- 
fiant voice). — No, I'm not. I'm going to stay ri^^t 
here. {Annie crostet and opem trunk L., taket out 
handtome drett, crotaes, hangt it over bach of arm- 
chair R. C, CTotiet up to hat trunk, takei out hat. 
Laura talcet it from her, erattet to trunk L., ttartt to 
unpack it.) Open these trunks, take out those clotiies, 
get me my prettiest dress. Hurry up. {She goe$ be- 
fore the mirror.) Get my new hat, dress up my body, 
and paint up my face. It 's all they've left of me. 
{To heraelf.) They've taken my soul away with 

Annie {i* a happy voice). — Yassnm, yassmn. 

Laura {who it arranging her hair). — ^Doll me op, 

Annie. — Yuh goin' out. Miss Laura P 



Laura. — Yes. I'm going to Rector's to make a fait, 
and to hell with the rest. 

{At thit moment the hurdjf-gurdy in the atreet, 
preiumably immediately under her nindow, begin* to 
plajf the tune of " Bon-Bon Buddie, My Chocolate 
Drop." There it tomething in thie rag-time melody 
which it particularly and peculiarly tuggeitive of the 
low life, the criminality and prottitution that contti- 
tute the night excitement of that teetion of New York 
City known at the Tenderloin. The tune, its aiiooia- 
tion, it like tpreading before tMura't eyes a pano- 
rama of the inevitable depravity that awaits her. She 
it torn from every ideal that the to weakly endeavored 
to gratp, and it thrown into tie mire and slime at the 
very moment when her emancipation seems to be at- 
tured. The woman with her flatky dress in one arm 
and her equally exaggerated type of picture hat in the 
other, it nearly prostrated by the tune and the realisa- 
tion of the future as it it terrifically conveyed to her. 
The negrett, in the happiness of serving Laura in her 
questionable career, picks up the melody and hutnt it 
as the unpacks the finery that hat been put away in 
the trunk.) 

Laura (with infinite grief, retignation, and hopeless- 
ness). — O God — O my God. (She turns and tottert 
toxoard the bedroom. The hurdy-gurdy continue*, 
with the negrets accompanying it.) 
A slow curtain. 



The theatrical situation in America is a peculiar 
one: many of the most successful dramatists re- 
fuse to publish their plays in book form, and a 
number of those vho under a less rigid system of 
managerial policy would have ample opportunity 
of seeing their plays produced have been forced 
to resort to publication of plays which are by 
reason of their subject-matter, or because of some 
external and practical reason, kept from the pro- 
fessional stage. While the author has consistently 
held to the belief that the play which cannot be 
acted is not a play, and that the *' closet-drama " 
is a form apart, he still believes that owing to local 
conditions certain plays which have not received 
the sanction of stage-presentation are legitimate 
examples of American tendencies. The following 
pages contain a few suggestions for the study of 
certain plays of the sort referred to, as well as 
further brief outlines for three or four dramatists 
of the other kind: those who will not allow their 
plays to be published. 


George Middleton is an earnest idealist, who 
has published three volumes of tme-act plays and 



one three-act comedy.* In his introduction to 
** PoBsesBion,** his latest volume, he says : " The 
dramatist , . . who prefers to follow the im- 
pulse within him, irrespective of whether or not his 
play may have a wide popular appeal, has had little 
encouragement. This is obviously so where his 
subjects are quietly intimate and where the clash 
of character is subtly mental or emotional; espe- 
cially when one compares such plays with those 
others, no more dramatic in essence, which natu- 
rally command a greater audience because the 
action is physical, external, and more readily com- 

Middleton, whose technical skill is seen in 
his dramatizations — " The House of a Thousand 
Candles " and " Barriers Burned Away " — as well 
as in his own plays, has tried to make the one-act 
play a vehicle for the ideas which underlie the 
great movements of the day. For the most part he 
has chosen to depict Various aspects of the feminist 
question, and his outspoken thoughts always de- 
mand thoughtful consideration. Middleton may 
be criticised on the score of occasional convention- 
ality in the matter of dialogue and perhaps a too 
earnest attitude toward his " message." " I am 
using," Middleton once said in an interview, " my 
little one-act plays to suggest the larger drama in 

•"Embers," " Trftdftloii," "Possession," and " Nowa- 
days " are all publlBbed by Molt. 


NOTES 288 

the background. I want each play to picture 
either gome vital paat experience or some inevitable 
possibility which may arise. I seldom deal in final- 
ities, since no situation in life is without its further 
potentialities." Here is Middleton the idealist. 
In two of hia short plays his method may be 
studied: " Tradition " (in the volume under that 
name) and "The Groove" (in "Possession"); 
the first is the depiction of one aspect of a world- 
old struggle between radicalism and conservatism; 
the second is one of this dramatist's truest bits of 
characterization. Here is one of his best plays: 
it shows distinct possibilities, which should be 
developed and incorporated into a long play. 
" Nowadays," a comedy in three acts, suffers as 
most thesis plays do, from an overdose of thesis, 
but again the author's sincerity, his idealism, his 
sense of dramatic construction, redeem it from 
the realm of the purely didactic. 


Josephine Preston Peabody (Mrs. Marks) has 
achieved success with her poetic play, " The 
Piper," • which was produced by Winthrop Ames 
at the New Theater in New York. Miss Peabody 

•Author also of "Marlowe" (1901), "The Wings" 
(1M5), and "The Wolf of Gnbblo" (l&U), aU pubUshed 
hf Houghton Mifflin. 



is a poetess of cbann and strength, but her plays, 
with the single exception of " The Piper," are more 
effective when read than seen. If the theater and 
the audience had given more encouragement to 
writers of poetic drama, it is likely that Miss Pea- 
foody would have written more plays and less lyrics. 


Olive Tilford Dargan possesses poetic gifts and 
some knowledge of stage requirements. " The 
Shepherd " and " The Mortal Gods " might, with 
skilful and sympathetic stage-management, prove 
dramatic on the stage. 


" The Yellow Jacket " * *s one of the most 
charming and original of modem American plays. 
Its charm and originality, however, militated 
against it as a popular success, although it called 
forth unstinted praise from nearly all the critics 
of the country. 


Percy Mackaye has written closet dramas as 
well as acting plays : " Saint Louis, a Masque," 
" Sanctuary, a Bird Masque," " A Garland for 
•PublWied hj Botfcs-Merrill. 


Sylvia," " Penria the Wolf," and " Sapho and 
Phaon " are written rather to be read than to 
be acted. 

Some of the following dramatists would have 
separate chapters devoted to them, were their plajs 
available, but so lon^ as they are withheld, a brief 
sununsry must for the present suffice: 


Probably the most prominent figure in the the- 
atrical world of the past quarter-century, both as 
a dramatist and producer, is David Belasco.* As 
a dramatist, he should be considered rather as a 
skilful and occasionally inspired collaborator; as 
a producer, a careful, painstaking, and yet illumi- 
nating artist. He was the first in this country who 
studied stage-effects down to the minutest detail; 
so closely has he applied himself to this end that 
he has outstripped himself and become so engrossed 
in external effects that he has lost sight of general 
values. A " Belasco set " is ordinarily praised for 
Its marvelous arrangement of minutta — the first 
act of " The Return of Peter Grimm " is the 
classic example — and credit should be given 
where it is due : this producer is a master of illu- 
sion. However, illusion is often substituted in his 

* " Hay Blossom " (Samuel Prendi) is bis only publisbed 


«8d NOTES 

productions to the detriment of the pUj. Oft^t 
this is fortunate, for many of the plays Belasco 
has produced have little else to recommend them 
but the setting. One of the sensations of " The 
Governor's Lady " was the exact reproduction of a 
"Childs*" restaurant! One might as well go to 
see " The Garden of Allah " because of the real 
sand and the real camels ! The genius of the man 
is seen in one act from *' The Darling of the Gods," 
where the suggestion of unseen action in the thick 
of a bamboo jungle is legitimately thrilling. Be- 
lasco's plays — or rather those in which he has 
worked over the ideas of others — are on the whole 
melodramatic and sentimental: he is a past master 
in the art of creating a thrill. The long-lost child, 
death-bed scenes, the deserted sweetheart, the mys- 
terious drop of blood, soft music, are a few among 
the many effects which he has on tap, so to speak. 
" Zaza," " The Heart of Maryland," " Madame 
Butterfly," " Du Barry," " The Girl of the Golden 
West," collaborations and adaptations, at once 
call up images of effective mounting, and com- 
pelling if at times exaggerated dramatic stories. 


George Ade, who suddenly sprang into fame in 
the early years of this century with his comic 
operas and his plays, is now seldom heard of. It 


NOTES «87 

appears that this brilliant and amusing young 
dramatist has either decided to abandon the stage 
and apply himself to work of another nature, as 
he once declared he would, or that he has written 
himself out. "The College Widow," "The 
County Chairman," and " Father and the Boys " 
are genuine if eccentric and exaggerated comedies 
of American life in which types are created, in the 
author's words, " in such a manner as to increase 
our self-respect and to give us a new insight into 
OUT characteristics as a people." 


George M. Cohan, actor, manager, composer, 
and playwright, is essentially typical of Broadway 
and the Broadway spirit m America. His musical 
comedies, his farces, and his own acting belong to 
what Walter Prichard Eaton termed the " comedy 
of bad manners " ; they are ingenious, always 
amusing, often exaggerated, pictures of American 
city life. Cohan can draw types, invent capital 
situations, but he has yet to prove that he can 
construct a full-length play which shall interest 
and amuse from beginning to end. He is a drama- 
tist of externals. Yet withal, he is a figure of 
prominence, for he reflects an important side of 
the American nature. 



George H. Broadliurst is a popular playwright 
who has utilized the business and political elements 
in our daily life. Like Charles Klein, he uses the 
great political and business motifs onlj for back- 
ground, as if he were afraid or unable to cope with 
problems of so momentous a nature. '* The Man 
of the Hour" is an amusing melodrama; "Why 
Smith X^eft Home " * and ** What Happened to 
Jones " * are amusing farces. " Bought and Paid 
For " had immense dramatic possibilities, but again 
the playwright avoided the issue. 


William C. De Mille, with "The Warrens of 
Virginia," ** Strongheart," * and " The Woman," 
shows himself a follower of Belasco. He has an 
innate sense of the theater, he can write effective 
and moving melodrama, but like most of his fellow- 
workers, he makes use of business, politics — true 
American subjects — only as background. " The 
Woman," however, deserves especial notice as a 
well-constructed drama, consistently thought out 
and well written. 

■Publiabcd hj Samnel Prendi.— I>^Iille*s "Food" and 
"In 1999" are slso ptiblished by Fraich. 


NOTES 289 


" Rebellion " comes as near to being an Ameri- 
can play of ideas as any of the day, but either 
through lack of experience or, what is more prob- 
able, judgment, the play somebov missed 6Te. 
Like the same author's " The Fourth Estate," it 
is earnest and sincere, though there is in it a 
regrettable tendency toward the melodramatic. 


" The New York Idea " • is a conventional but 
witty and clever comedy of manners, one of the 
few which this country has produced. Mitchell is 
practically the only dramatist (with the exception 
of Fitch) who is able and willing to satirize " high 
society " in America. " The New Marriage " 
(written for Mrs. Fisfce, as were " The New York 
Idea " and " Becky Sharp ") was good as to idea, 
but fell far short of being a unified and interesting 


" The Lion and the Mouse " is among the first 

of the more recent American plays to utilize the 

theme of " high finance," the investigations into 

which were at the time causing widespread unrest, 

• PnUiahed bjr Walter Baker (Boston). 



While the play is marred by a distortion of facta 
and ideas, it is, none the less, an earnest attempt. 
It is to be regretted that in his other plays Charles 
Klein used such pertinent and interesting themes 
as police-court justice and the evils of metropoli- 
tan life and that in the department store, only as 
background. " The Third Degree," " The Gam- 
blers," and " Maggie Pepper " fall far short of 
their infinite possibilities. Lately Charles Klein 
went to live in England ; when he left he said that 
the American dramatist must get away from his 
own country in order to gain a better perspective. 
It is hoped that Klein will, as he can do, take his 
art a little more seriously, and make use of his un- 
doubted gifts in a play which shall be workman- 
like and significantly American. 


" A Man's World " • is an attractive and touch- 
ing picture of New York life. Miss Crothers has 
done notable work in this play and in " The Three 
of Us," " The Herfords," and " Myself, Bettina." 
Like other woman dramatists in AJnerica (Mar- 
garet Mayo, Eleanor Gates, Mary Roberts Rine- 
hart, and Alice Brown), there is a certain conven- 
tionality both in the treatment of the theme and in 
" American Dramatist 


NOTES 391 

the development of human character, hut a note 
' of sincerity and a certain lidelity to external de- 
tails allow one to hope that this dramatist will 
make further use of her talents. 




General Reference Works on the Drama, itt Theory, 
Technic, and Hiitory: 
Andhiws, Chablton. 

The Drama To-day. Lippineott ($1.50.) 
Ax CHER, William. 

Playmaking, a Manual of Craftsmanship. Small, 
Maynard. ($2.00.) 
Baker, George P. 

The Technique of the Drama. Houghton Mif- 
flin. ($8.00.) 
BoiTRGEoiB, Maurice. 

John Millington Synge and the Irish Theater. 
Macmillan. ($2.30.) 
Bust ON, RicHAsn. 

How to See a Play. MacnuUan. ($1.85.) 
Caffih, Charles H. 

The Appreciation of the Drama. Donbleday, 
Page. ($1.50.) 
Canhak, Gilbert. 

The Joy of the Theater. Dutton. ($0.50.) 
Carter, Hontly. 

The New Spirit in Drama and Art. Kennerley. 
Chandler, Frank Wadleioh. 

Aspects of Modern Drama. MacmiHan. ($2.00.) 



Chenet, Shzldon. 

The New Movement in the Tbealer. Eenncrlcy. 
Clabk, Barrxtt H. 

The ConUnental Drama of To-day. Holt ($1.S9.) 


The Ides of Tragedy. Brentano. ($1.00.) 
Craio, Gobdon. 
On the Art of the Theater. Sergei, Chicago. 

Towards a New Theater. Dntton. ($6.00.) 


Contemporary Ireland. Maunsel, Dublin. 
Fbiyt4g, Guitat. 

The Technique of the Drama. Griggs, Chicago. 
Ftlzb, Feanklin. 

The Theater and its People. Doubleday, Page. 
Hale, Edward Etkrett, Jb. 

Dramatisto of To-day. Holt. ($I.a0.) 
Hamilton, Clayton. 

The Theory of the Theater. Holt. ($1.50.) 

Studies in Stagecraft Holt. ($1.50.) 
Henderson, Archibald. 

The Changing Drama. Holt ($1.50.) 
HENNEgtriN, Alfred. 

The Art of Playwriting. Houghton Mifflin. 
Hunt, Elizabeth R. 

The PUy of To-day. Lane. ($1.50.) 

T,Goo(^le i 



iBTma, HlNBT. 

The Drams. Tail, New York. (Out of priot) 
Ibting, H. B. 

The Drama. Page. ($1.50.) 
LiwisoHN, Lddwio. 

The Modem Dramtt. Hnebsch. (|l.50.) 
Mattbewb, Bkandeb. 

The Derelopment of Ac Drama. Scribner. 

A Stady of the Drama. Hougfaton Hifflin. 

On Acting. Scribner. ($0.79.) 
Meredith, Gborqk. 

An Essay on Comedy. Scribner. ($1.00.) 


The Theater of To-day. Lane. ($1.30.) 
HoNSHOusE, Allan. 

Books and Plays. Lane. ($1.50.) 
Palmer, John. 

Comedy. Doran. ($0.50.) 

The Censor and the Theaters. Eennerley. 

The Future of the Theater. BeU. ($1.00.) 
Price, William T. 

The Technique of the Drama. Brentano. ($1.50.) 

The Analysis of Play Construction and Dra- 
matic Principles. W. T. Price. ($5.00.) 
Shipman, Louis Etah. 

The Trne Adventures of a Play. Kenneiley. 




Strang, Lewii C. 

Plays and Players of the Last Quarter Century. 

FamooB Actors of the Day in America. Page. 
Sturbis, Granville Forbes. 

The Inflaence of the Drama. Shakespeare Press, 
New York. ($1.00.) 
Thobndike, Abhlbt H. 

Tragedy. Houghton. MiffliS. ($1.50.) 
Vauohan, C. E. 
/ Types of Tragic Drama. Macmillau. ($1.60.) 

WooDBRiDaE, Elizabeth. 

The Drama, Its Law and Technique. Allyn and 
Bacon. ($0.80.) 
Englith and Irith Drama: 
Archer, Willi&u. 

About the Theater. Unwin. 

English Dramatists of To-day. Sampson Low. 

Study and Stage. Wessels. 

Masks or Faces? Longmans. 

Real Conversations. Heinemann. 
BoRSA, Mario. 

The English Stage of To-day. Lane. ($2.50.) 
Dukes, Ashley. 

Modem Dramatists. Sergei, Chicago. ($1.50.) 
FiLON, Adoustim. 

The Engli^ SUge. Dodd, Mead. ($2.50.) 
George, W. L. 

Dramatic Actualities. Sidgwick and Jackson. 
Grzoory, Lady Adgusta. 

Out Irish Theater. Putnam. ($1.30). 



Howi!, P. P. 

Dramatic Portraits. Kennerley. ($1.50.) 
The Repertory Theater. Kennerley. ($1.25.) 
JoNEB, Hkmrt Asthub. 

Renascence of the English Drama. MacmiUan. 

The Foundations of a National Drama. Doran. 

The Theater of Ideas. Doran. ($1.00.) 
Kennedy, J. M. 

Modem English Literatnre. Stephen Swift, 
Khans, Horatio Sheafe. 

William Butler Yeats and the Irish Literary 
Revival. Doubleday, Page. ($1.00.) 
•McCarthy, Debmomd. 

The Court Theater. A. H. Bnllen, Stratford-on- 
Moore, George. 

Hail and Farewell. Appleton. (8 vols., each 

Impressions and Opinions. Brentano. ($1.85.) 
Oliver, D.. E. 

The English Stage. John Onseley, London. 
Wbygandt, Cornelius. 

Irish Plays and Playwrights. Honghton Mifflin. 
Yeats, William Butler. 

Ideas of Good and Evil. Macmlllan. ($1.50.) 
The Cutting of an Agate. Macmillan. ($1.50.) 



Collected Dravtatie Critieiam: 
Akchir, William. 

The Theatrical World. (5 vols.) Walter Scott, 
Gbiin, J. T. 

Dramatic Criticism. John Long, London, 1899. 

Premiss of the Ye&r. Macquecn, London, 1900. 

Dramatic Criticism. Greening, London, 1901. 

Dramatic Criticism. Evelyn Naah, London, 1904. 

Dramatic Vftlnes. Macmillan. ($1.25.) 
Scott, Clbhsnt. 

Drama of Yesterday and To-day. (S vols.) 
MscmiUan. ($8.00.) 
Shaw, Bkrnahd. 

Dramatic Opinions and Eaaays. (2 vols.) Bren- 
tano. ($8.S0.) 
E. F. S[pencb]. 

Oar Stage and Its Critics. Methnen, London. 
Syhons, Arthur. 

Plays, Acting, and Mnsic. Dutton. ($2.00.) 

From Theater to Music Hall. Stephen Swift, 

Nights at the Play. Ham-Smidi, London. 
Walklet, a. B. 

Frames of Mind. Richards, London. 

The Drama and Life. Bientano. ($3.00.) 

Playhouse Impressions. Unwin, London. 

Dramatic Criticism. Murray, London. 



Dictionariet, Year-Books, etc.: 
Adams, William D. 

A Dictionary of the Drama, A to G, (English and 
American). Lippincott. ($3.50.) 
Boston Book Co. (Publishers). 
Bulletin of Bibliography. 

Modern Drama and Opera, a reading list. 
Brown, Frank C. 

A Selective List of Essays and Books abont the 
Drama and the Theatre. Drama League of 
America. (25 cents.) 
Brown, T. Allbton. 

History of the New York Stage (1732-1901). 
Dodd, Mead. {3 vols. — Out of print.) 
Carson, Lionel. 

The Stage Year Book. (Appears annually.) 
Clarence, Reginald. 

The Stage Cyclopedia. London. 
Dickinson, Thomas H., Editor. 

Chief Contemporary Dramatists. Houghton 
Mifflin. ($2,75.) (Contains twenty modern 
plays and brief reading list? on Wilde, Pinero, 
Jones, Galsworthy, Barker, Yeats, Synge, Lady 
Gregory, Fitch, Moody, Thomas, and Mac- 
HiNES, Dixie; and Hanafobd, Harrt Phkscott 
Who's Who in Music and Drama. Hanaford, 
New York (1914). 



Pabseb, John. 

Who's Who in the Theater. Isaac Pitman, Lon- 
Pence, Jaueb Harry (compiler). 

The Magasine and the Drama, an index. 
The Dnnlap Society (out of print.) 
RoDEN, Robert F. 
Later American Plays (18S1-1900). ..fihe Dnn- 
lap Society (1900). 

American Drama: 
Andre WB, Charlton. 

The Drama To-day. Lippincott. ($1.50.) 
Burton, Richard. 

The New AmericaD Drama. Crowell. ($1.50.) 
Chandler, Frank Wadleiqh. 

Aspects of Modem Drama. Macmillan. ($2.00.) 
Ch£Net, Sheldon. 

The New Movement in the Theater. Kennerley. 
Crawfobd, Mart Caroline. 

The Romance of the American Theater. Little, 
Brown. ($2.50.) 
Fbohhan, Daniel. 

Memories of a Manager. Donbleday, Page. 

OOLDlfAN, Elf HA. 

The Social Significance of the Modem Drama. 
Badger. ($1.00.) 
Hauilton, Clayton. 

The Theory of the Theater. Holt. ($1.50.) 



Hapbood, Norman. 
The Stage in America (1897-1900). Macmillan. 
Mackatb, Perct. 

The PlayhoDse and the Play. Macmillan. 

The Civic Theater. Kenneriey. ($1.50.) 
Ma'-'^hf^b, Bhandir. 

A Study of the Drama. Houghton Mifflin. 
Inquiries and Opinions. Scrihner. ($1.60.) 
The Historical Novel and Other Essays. Scrih- 
ner. ($1.50.) 


The Theater of To-day. Lane. ($1.50.) 
Moses, Montrohk J. 

The American Dramatist. LitUe, Brown. ($2.50.) 
Sturois, Grantillb Forbes. 

The Influence of the Drama. Shakespeare Press, 
New York. ($1.00.) 

Collected Criticumr 

Eaton, Walter Prichard. 

The New Theater, and Others. Small, Maynard. 

The American Stage of To-day. Small, Maynard. 
Hamilton, Clayton. 

Studies in Stagecraft. Holt. ($1.50.) 
Matthews, Brander. 

Books and Plays. Scrihner. 




Masques and Mummers. De Witt, New York. 
BvHi., Abthsb. 

Second NighU. Scribner's. ($1.50.) 
Winter, William. 

The Wallet of Time. (2 vols.) Moffat, Yard. 

Other Days. Moffat, Yard. 

Shadows of the Stage. (3 vols.) 

The Life trnd Art of Richard Mansfield. (2 vols.) 
Moffat, Yard. 

American pla^s, produced and tmproduced, are be- 
ing published regularly in the " American Dramatists' 
Series " (Badger, Boston), and in Poet-Lore 
(same publisher) ; in the " Drama League Series " 
(Doubieda^, Page) ; in the " Modem Drama Series " 
(Eennerley), and in The Drama. 

Among the magazines which print periodical criti- 
cism on the British and American theater are: The 
Drama, Poet-Lore, The American Playwright, The 
Dramatist, The Bookman, and The American Magor 


Abbey Theater, The, 198, 

Ade, George, B88 
" Admirable CrichtoD, The," 

Barrie, 171 
.*:sehylu9, 125 
" Alias Jimmy Valentiiie,'' 

Annatrong, 17 
" Amants " (" Lovers "), 

DtHinay, 113, 341 
American Dmtna, 219-291, 
" American Dramatist, The," 

Moses, 231, 337, 946 
" Ames ennemies, Les," Loy- 

son, 82 
Ames, Wlnthrop, 283 
" Amoureuse," Porto-Rlche, 

117, 118 
" Analysis of Play Con- 
struction and Dramatic 

Principle," Price, 12 
" Anathema," Andreyeff, 81 
Andreyeff, Leonid, quoted, 

" Anti-Matrimony," Mac- 

kaye, 363 
"Apttre, L'," Loyson, 89 
" Aran Islands, The," Synge, 

Archer, WiUlam, vii, 3, 12, 

14, 36, 64; quoted on 

"Oialns," 163-1635 quoted 

on "Great Divide, ITie," 

" Aristocracy," Howard, 

219, 930, 22T 
Aristotle, 12, 84 
" Ariwwa," Thomas, 62, 234 
" Arms and the Man," Shaw, 

68, 77, 78 

Arnold, Matthew, 39, 99 

Asides, 75, 223-335 

" As the Leaves," Giacosa, 

"As You Like It," Shake- 
speare, 201 

« Atalanta in Calydon," 
Swinburne, 99 

Atmosphere, 15T-158, 196 

" At the Mitre," Barker, 91. 

" Autobiography of a Play," 
Howard, 236 

" Awakening of Sprint 
The," W^ekind, 120 

Baker, Ellcabeth, Biogra- 
phy, 160; Criticism, ISO- 
161; Literature on, 161 1 
Plays, list, 161 { Play dis- 
cussed: "Chains," 163- 
164; Referred to, vil, 156 

Baker, G. P„ 963, 369. 

" Banker's Daughter, The," 
Howard, 319 

Barker, Granville, Biogro- 

Ehy, 90; Criticism, 90-91; 
iterature on, 92- Plays, 
list, 91; Play dlscusaedi 
" Vofsey Inheritance, 

The," 93-96; Referred to, 
vl, 48, 64, 73, 116, 156, 171. 

Barrie, Sir James, Biogra- 
phy, 165; Criticism, 105; 
Literature on, 167; Plays, 
list, 165-167; Plays dis- 
cussed: "Pantaloon," 168- 
169, " Twelve-pound Look, 
The," 170-172; Referred 
to, V, 48, 73, 90, 93, 346 

Baudelaire Clurles, 51 


" Becky Sharp," Mitchell, 


" Before Breakfast," Sow- 

ci*y, 1S4 
Bclasco, David, v, 99T, 9S&- 


" Benefit of the Doubt, 

The," PInero, 4 
Bennett, Arnold, 207 
Benrimo, Harry, 384 
Benson, F. It, OT 
" Bertrade," Lemattre, SI 
Besier, Rudolf, v 
" Blenfalteurs, Les," Brieux, 

"Big Idea, The," Thomas 

and Hamilton, 971 
"Birthright," Murray, 209, 

Bjbrnson, BjOmstjeme, 75 
" Blot in the 'Scutcheon, A," 

Browning, 99 100 
"Boss, The," Sheldon, 269, 

874, 275 
Boudcault, Dion 2S0 
"Bought and Paid For," 

Braadhurst, 9GS, 288 
" Brand," Ibsen, 257 
Brieux, Eug^e, 17, 82, 207 
Broadhurst, George H., 3S8 
" Broadway Jones," Cohan, 

Brown, Alice, 290 
Browning, Robert, 99 
"Bygones," Pinero, 3 
Byron, H. J., 149 

Campbell, Mrs. Patrick, 90 
"Campden Wonder, The," 

Masefleld, 141 
"Candida," Shaw, B6, 71-75, 

78, 81, 138 
Capital and labor as a aab- 

ject for drama, 131-133, 

158-159, 17S 

" Captain Brassboand's Con- 
version," Shaw, 74 

" Captain Drew on Leave," 
Davies, 131 

Capus, Alfred, 13T 

Carpenter, Edward, 64 

" Case of RetKlhous Susan, 
The," Jones, 37, 99 

" Cassilis Engagement, The," 
Hankin, 1J0-1I3 

Catastrophe, 12, 28 

"Chains,*- Baker, 116, 160, 

Qiambers, C. Haddon, Bi- 
ography, 114 J Criticism, 
114; Literature on, 115; 

Plays, list, 114-115; Play 

discussed: " "Tyranny of 
Tears, The," 116-120 
"Change," Francis, 44, 45, 

ITS, 175-179 
Characterization, 20, 215, 


Child-motif, 937 

Oark, Barrett H., 13, 62 

" Clerical Error, A," Jones, 

Climax, 12, 44-46, 176, 211, 

263, 267 
" Climbers, The," Fltrti, 253 
" Closet Drama," 99 
Cohan, George M., v, 287 
"ColI^c Widow, The," Ade, 

" Combustion," Thomas, 334 
"Comedy of Errors, A," 

Shakespeare, 110 
ComroerdnliEation of (he 

theater, 95 
" Concert, The." See " Kon- 

sert. Das"' 
Congreve, William, 39 
** Continental Drama of To~ 

day, The," Clark, t, 18, 

25, 8« 


" Countess Cathleen, 'Hie," 
Yeats, 1B5-187 

" Coun^ Chairman, 'nie," 
Ade, 98T 

Court Theater, The, Lon- 
don, 64, 90, 107, 154 

Crothers, Rachel M^ 2ft0- 

" Crusaders, The," Jooea, 

Curel, Franfois de, 196 
"Curtains," T6, 111, 137-138 
" Cyrano de Bergerac," Ro- 
stand, 81 

" Daisy's Escape," Pinero, 

" Damaged Goods," Brieux, 

" Dandy Dick," Pinero, 4 

D'Annuniio, Gabriele, 86 

Dante, 101 

Dargan, Oiive Tilford, 38i 

" Darling of the Gods, The," 
Belasco, 986 

Davies, Hubert Henry, Bi- 
ography, 131 ; Criticism, 
1S1-I321 literature on, 
193 i Plays, Ust, 122; PlaT 
diaeussed: " MoUusc, The," 
194-137; Referred to, \i, 
viL lie 

De Bar, Ben, 333 

"Deirdre," Yeats, 186 

De Mllle, W. C, 388 

" Denouement," 12, 14S, ISO, 

Shaw, 74 

Dialogue, 60-61, 100, 136, 

151-1S3, 310, 338-939, 378- 


" Doctor's Dilenuna, The^" 

Shaw, 78, Bl, B3 
" Doll's House, A," Ibsen, 

145, 150, 396, 355 
" Dolly Reforming Herself," 

Jones, 37, 30, 356 
"Don Juan in Hell," Shaw, 

Donnay, Maurice, 36 
" Doormats," Davies, 131 
Douglas, Lord Alfred, 51 
" Drame^ Its Law and Tech- 
nique, llie," Woodbridgti 

" Dramatic Portraits," Howe^ 

16 J quoted, 73 
Dramatic talent, Pinero 

quoted on, IT 
Drawing-room plaj, 1S6 
" Dream of Love, A," Da- 
vies, 131 
" Drifting Apart," Heme^ 

Drinkwater, John, quoted im 

Hankin, 107-108 
"Du Barry," Belasco, 386 
"Duchess of Padua, The," 

Wilde, 47, 48 
Duke of York's Theater, 

London, 90 
Dumas fUs, Alexandre, 14, 


Eaton. W. P., 987 

" Editha's Burglar,' 
mas, 333, 334 

Edwards, T. R., vii 

" Eldest Son, The," Gals- 
worthy, 149 

" Elizabethan SUge Society," 

« Embers," Middleton, 889 


S06 INI 

" Empcdodes," Arnold, 99 

English Drama, 3-1 78 

Errlne, St. John G., Biog- 
raphy, 913; CriUdam, 313; 
Literature, 914; Plajrs, 
lUt, 214; Plaf discussed: 
" Mixed Marriage," 91fi- 
91fi; Referred to, vi 

" EvangUe du sang, L'," 
L07SDI1, 89 

Exposition, 19, IS. 19, TS, 

Fabian Society, The, 64 

" " -•■- - -' d, 11 


Moody, 938 
Family drama, ISO 
" Fanny's First Play," 

Shaw, re, 85 
"Fantine," Howard, 91B 
Farce, 60 
Fate-motif, 59 
* Father and the Boys," 

Ade, 987 
" Fealhertop," Hawthorne, 

"Fenris the Wolf," M*c- 

kaye, 985 
" Fine Feathers," ■Walter, 

" First Lead," 79 
Fishe, Mrs., 969, 989 
Fitch, Clyde, Biography, 

948 ; Criticism, 948-949 ; 

Literature on, SS1-2S9; 

Plays, list, 949-950; Play 

discussed : "Truth, The,** 

953-957; Referred to, 937, 

Flanberi:, Gustave, 51 
" Florentine Tragedy, A," 

Wilde, 48 
"Food," De Mille, 988 
Foreshortening of time, 144- 


" Fonrberies de Scat^ 
Les," Moliire, 119 

" Four Irish Plays," Brrine, 

"Fourtti Estate, TTie," Pat- 
terson, 389 

" Praueesca da Rimini," 
D'Annunsio, 105 

Francis, John Oswald, Biog- 
raphy, 173; Criticism, 
173; Literature on, 174; 
Flays, list, 174; Play dis- 
cussed: *" Change," 175- 
179; Referred to, vU, 

"Free Woman, "Hie," Don- 
nay, 954 

Freytai, Gurtav, Sec 

Galsworthy, John, Biogra- 
phy, 19S; Criticism, 198- 
199; Literature on, 130t 
Plays, list, 199; Plays dis- 
cussed: "Strife," 131-134; 
" Pigeon, The," 1S5-139; 
Referred to, ri, 15, 74, 99, 
90, 93, 156, 159. 105 

" Gamblers, The," Klein, 290 

" Gaol Gate, The," Gregory, 

"Garland for Sylria, A," 
Mackaye, 984 

Gates, Eleanor, 990 

" Gay Lord Quex, The," Pi- 
nero, 4, 162 

George, Henry, 63; quoted 
on Heme, 231 

" Get-Rich-Quick Walllng- 
foid," Cohan, 938 

" Getting Married," Shaw, 
72, 91-85, 194, 179 

Glacosa, Giuseppe, 10 


Gilbert. Sir William S., 16 

GiUette, WUliam, Biosra- 
phf, 94S; Criticism, 343; 
Literature on, 244; Plays, 
list, 34S-9W; Play dis- 
cussed; " Held by ttie En- 
emy," 346-247; Referred 
to, 363 

"Girl of the Golden West, 
The," Belasco, 2Se 

" Ghosts," Ibsen. 16, 97« 

" Girl With the Green Eyes, 
The," Fitch, 2S3 

" Governor's Lady, The," 
Belasco, 986 

Grand (^>era House, New 
York, 938 

" Great Divide, The," 
Moody, 958, 360-969 

Greet, Ben. 90 

Gregory, Lady Angusta, Bi- 
ography, 198; Criticism, 
198-199; Literature on, 
eOlt Flays, list, 199-900; 
Plays discussed; " Hya- 
cinth Halvey," 202-905; 
" Rising of the Moon, 
The," 806-207; Referred 
to, vi, 181, 189, 913 

Grein, J. T., vii. 16, 64 

" Hail and Farewell," 

Moore, 192 
Hale, E. E., Jr^ 97 
HamUton, Clayton, vii, 12, 

Hankin, St. John, Biogra- 
phy, lOT; Criticism, 107- 
106; Literature on, 108- 
109; Plays, list, 108; Play 
discussed: " Cassilis En- 

Kgement, The." 110-113; 
;ferred to, 90 
Happy endings, US, 255, 

EX 807 

" Harlequinade, The," Bar- 
ker, 91 

Harte, Br^t, 87 

"Havoc, The." H. S. Shel- 
don, 95 

Haielton, George C, Jr., 284 

" Heart of Maryland, The," 
Belasco, 286 

"Hearts of Oak," Heme. 

" Hedda GaWer," Ibsen, 19, 

" Henrietta, The," How- 
ard, 219, 22T 
Herman, Henry, 99, 36 
Heme, James A., Biogra- 
phy, 298; Criticism, 92&- 
929; Literature on, 929- 
930; Plays, list, 929; Play 
discussed: " Shore Acres," 

Hero, 39 

"Herod," Phillips, 101 

Heroine, 39 

Hervieu, Paul, 29, 40, 83, 
135, 207 

"Hi^ Road, Ibe," Shel- 
don, 269, 971, 274-975 

" Hlndle Wakes." Hough- 
ton, 147, 149-153, 154 

Horn! man, Miss A. E. P., 

Houghton, Stanley, Biogra- 
phy, 147; Criticism. 147; 
Literature on, 148; Plays, 
list, 147-148; Play dUs- 


Howard, Bronson, Biogra- 
phy, 219; Criticism, 319- 
220; Literature on, 221- 
999; Plays, Ust, 220-221; 
Play discussed: " Young 
Mrs. Winthrop," 92S-997 

Howe, P. P, quoted on Pl- 


oero, 10; quoted on 9uw, 

Ibaen, Henrik, Ifl, 64, T2, 

74, 83, 196, 150^ ISI, IS9, 

9M, 3TS 
** Ideal Husband, An," 

WUdc, 47 
• Image, The," Gregory, 199 
" Importance of Being 

Earnest, The," WUde, 47, 

48, &8, 59-a9 
" Independent Means," 

Houghton, 14T 
Independent Theater, The, 

16, 64 
Ing«nue, 79 
" In Memoriam: Bronson 

Howard," Matthews, S3S 
" Inn of TranquUlity, The," 

Galsworthy, 131 
" Intruder, The," Maeter- 
linck, 164, 186 
Irish Drama, 181-216 
" Irish Literary Theatre, 

The," 181, 188 
"Iris," Pinero, 4, 19-23, 96, 

37, 40, 196, 378 
Irving, Sir Henry, 3 

" Jackdaw, The," Gregory, 
303, 904, 907 

" Jane Clegg," Errine, 813 

" Jeanne 3'Arc," Mackaye, 

" John Bull's Other Island," 
Shaw, 80 

"Jrfin Gabriel Borkman," 
Ibsen, 10 

Jones, Henry Arthur, Biog- 
raphy, 29; Criticism, SS- 
30j Ijterature on, 34-35; 
Flays, list, 30-34; Plays 
discussed: " Silver King, 
The," 36-39. "Michael and 
His Lost Angel," 40-43, 

"Liars, The," 44-46; Re- 
ferred to, vi, 16, 27, 48, 
06, 66, 7S, 116, 117, 15^ 
166, 907 

" Julius Csssar," Shake- 
speare, 203 

" Justice," (ialswoTtby, IS, 
97, 83 

" Karen Bomemann," Berg- 

strom, 273 
'■ Kate," Howard, 220 
" Kathleen ni Houlihan," 

Yeats, 18T 
Kennedy, Charles Rann, v 
" King Lear," Shakespeare, 

131, 260 
Kingsnay Theater, London, 

Klein^ Charles, 288, 289-290 
Knoblauch, Edward, 907 
" Konzert, Das," Bahr, 956 
Krans, H. S., quoted on 

Yeats, 181 

"Labyrinth, The," Hervieu, 

"Lady Bountiful," Pinero, 4 
" Lady Windermere's Fan," 

WUde, 47, Sfi^B, 89, 119, 

Legouvd, Ernest, 246 
Lemattre, Jules, 196 
" Leonarda," Bjornson, 75 
" Liars, The," Jones, 97, 29, 

44-46, 127, S05, 939, 254, 

Lie, the, as dramatic mate- 
rial, 254 
"Lie, The," Jones, 254 
"Liebelei," SchniWer, 242 
"Life of Man, The," An- 

dreyeff, 164 
" Lion and the Mouse, The," 

Klein, 989 
Literature and drama, 43, 

"Literature and the Mod- 


era Dtbiim," Jones, quot- 
ed, 49 
Little nieater, London, IM 
Little Theater, New York, 

Logic, dramatic, 92, 1SI-1S3 
" 1^1 de rhomme, Lft," Her- 

vieu, S3 
London, Jack, 87 
" Lovers." See " Amants ** 

" Macbeth," Shakespeare, S3; 

quoted, 99-100, 198, 131, 

IM, 1S6 
MackBye, Feny, Biogra- 

Ehy, 963 J Criticism, 963; 
itcrature on, 364-365 ; 
Plays, Ust, 96*; Play dis- 
cussed: "Scarecrow, The," 
966'3SB; Referred to, 384- 


Mackaye, Steele, S63 

" Madame Butterfly," Be- 
lesco, 986 

" Madman or Saint," Eche- 
garsy, SI 6 

" Madras House, The," Bar- 
ker, T3, SO, 91 

Maeterlinck, Maurice, SI, 
ISA, 939 

" Magda," Sudermann, TS, 
8d, 190, 166, IT5 

" Maggie Pepper," Klein, 

" Magistrate, The," Pi- 

" Magnanimous Lover, The," 

Ervlne, 149, 913 
" Man and Superman," 

Shaw, 68, 71, 79, 7ft^0, 91, 

95, 197 
"Man of the Hour, The," 

Broodhurst, 938 
Mansfield, Richard, 943 
"Man's World, A," Croth- 

crs, 900 

" Margaret Pleming," Heme, 

" Marlowe," Peabody, 983 

Martys, Edward, 181 

Hasefield, John, Biography, 
140; Criticism, 140-141; 
Literature on, 141-149: 
PIbts, Ust, 141; Play dis- 
cussed] " Tragedy of Nan, 
The," 143-146 

"Mater," Mackaye, 363 

Matthews, Brander, 19; 
quoted on moU, 118-119; 
quoted on Howard, 919- 
330, 336; quoted, 346 

Manghato, W. Somerset, vi, 

Mayo, Margaret. 990 

" * - Blossom," Belasco, 


Melodrama, 36-39, 33S- 

"Michael and His Lost 

Angel," Jones, 99, 30, 40- 

43, 78 
" Mid-Channel," Plnero, 4, 

15, 30, 24-98, 197 
" Middleman, The," Jchms, 

Middleton, George, vii, 981- 

" Milieu," ee, 94, 196 

" ' Mind - the - Paint ' Girl, 

The," Pinero, 4 
" Minute Men, The," Heme, 

" Misalliance," Shaw, 79, 

SI, 85 
Mitchell, Langdon, 989 
" Mixed Marriage," Brrlne, 

212, 815-216 
Mobs, 1T6 
Moliire, 119, U9 


•MoUbsc TV," Davies, 9S, 

191, I84-19T, S5S 
" Money-Splnner, The," Pi- 

nero, 3 
Moody, Williun VauBbn, 

"New York Idea, Tbt," 

Mitchell, 389 
" Nigger, The," Shddon, 

3fl9, 974 
** Nowadays," Middleton, 

PUjn, list, 258; Play dis- 
cussed: " Great Divide, 
The," 960468 

Moore, George, tI, 181; 
quoted on Synge, 191, 196 

Morris, William, 64 

"Mortal Gods, The," Dai^ 
gan, 881 

Moses, Montrose J., Tli, 
nS; quoted on Heroe, 
831; quoted an Thomas, 
937; quoted on Gillette, 

Motivation, S6-£8, 196-13T, 

"Mots" ("caractftre," "sit- 
uation," " d'esprit ">, 118- 
119, 254 

" Mrs. Dane's Defence," 
Jones, 27, 45 

"Mrs. Gorrtnge's Necklace," 
Davies, 121 

' Mrs. Harrison," Mase- 
fleld, 141 

" Mrs. Warren's Profes- 
sion," Shaw, 64^ 73, T8 

Murray, T. C, Biography, 
208] Criticism, 308-209; 
Literature on, 209; Plays, 
list, 909; Play dlscassed: 
" Birtiiright," 210-912; Re- 
ferred to. Til, 913 

*• ^^f. Bettlna," Crotbers, 

" Nathan Hale," Fitch, 845 
" New Marriage, The," 

Mitchell, 289 
New Theater, New York, 

New Woman, The, IT 

*• (Edlpus," Sophocles, 143, 

193, 303 
"On Bane's Strand," Yeats, 

"Only 'Round the Cor- 
ner," Jones, 39 
" On Trial," Reizoistein, 

371, 973, 273 
'Orangeman, The," Errine, 

"Othello," Shakespeare, 303 

"Paid in Full," Walter, 

Palmer, Jt^n, quoted on 

Galsworthy, 138 
" Pantaloon," Barrie, 168- 

" Pardon, The," Lemaltre, 

95, 195 
"Pathetic Fallacy," The, In 

drama, 156-158 
"Patriel" Sardou, 345 
Patterson, Joseph Medill, 

Peabody, Josephine PrestOa 

(Mrs. Marks), 983-984 
" PeU£as and MfUsande," 

MaeterUnck, 196 


" Peter Pan," Barrle, les, 

" Peter Stuyvesant," How- 
ard and Matthews, 396 

"Philanderer, The," Sh»w, 

"Philip the King," Mase- 
fleid, 141 

Phillipg, Stephen, Biogra- 
phy, 97 ; Criticism, 97 j 
Literature on, 98) Plays, 
list, 97-98; PUy iBs- 
Gussed: "Paolo and Fran- 
ceBca," 99-106; Referred 
to, vli, 43, 51 

"Pigeon, The," Galsworthy, 

Pinero, Sir Arthur, Biog- 
raphy, 3-4; Criticism, 4- 
6; literature on, 8-9; 
Plays discussed : " Sweet 
Lavender," 10-13, " Second 
Mrs. Tanqueray, ITie," 14- 
18, "Iris,^ 19-33; "Mid- 
Channel," 24-98; Referred 
to, yi, 30, 37, 40, 65, 66, 77, 
78, 91, 114, 116, 117, 192, 
194, 149, 156, 163, 937, 

" Piper, The," Peabody, 

* Play Actors, The," 160 

"Playboy of the Western 
World, The," Synge, 1*1, 
191, 194-197 

" Playmaking," Archer, 13, 
163-163, 360 

Play of ideas, 83 

"Plays Pleasant and Un- 
pleasant," Shaw, 65; 
quoted on Ibsen, 79-73 

Poetic drama, SI, 99-101 

"Poetry Review, The," 97 

"Poliche," Balaille, 112 

Porto-Riche, Georges de, 

" Possession," Hiddleton, 

>EX 811 

Preparation, 89-60, 101 

" Preserving Mr. Panmnre," 

Pinero, 4 
" Price of Ttomaa Seott, 

The," Baker, 160 
"Professor, TTie," Gillette, 

" Profligate, The," Pinero, 4, 

" Prunella," Barker and 

Housman, 91 
" Pygmalion," Shaw, 78, 8S 

"Qneen Mary," Tennyson, 

Queensberry, Marquess of 


" Raisonneur," 96 

Ransome, Arthur, 47 

" Rebellion," Patterson, 289 

Repertory Theater, Charles 
Frohman's, 160 

" Return of Peter Grimm, 
The," Belasco, 237, 985 

Restoration Dramatists, 30 

"Return of the Prodigal, 
The," Hsnkin, 110, 113 

" Rev. Griffith Davenport, 
ITie," Heme, 228 

" Revolutionist's Handbook, 
The " (In " Man and Su- 
perman "), 76 

" Richard III.," Shake- 
speare, 144 

" Riders to the Sea," Synge, 
156, 191-193 

Rinehart, Mary Roberta, 

" Rising of the Moon, Tlie," 
Gregory, 206-207 

Robertson, T. W., 16, 149, 

Robinson, Lennox, 913 

" Romance," Sheldon, 78, 
269, 271-375 

" Romeo and Juliet," Shake- 
speare, 308 


" RMmcrsholm," Ibsen, S9, 

Ross, Robert, quoted in 

Ransome'a "Oscir WUde," 

* RuUierford and Son," 

Sowerbr, 154-lM, ITJt, ITS 

"Sabine Woman, A." See 
"Great EMvide, The" 

" Sac Harbor," Heme, 398 

" Sunts and Sinners," Jones, 

" Saint Lonls," Mackaje, 

" Salonrf," wade, 48, 51-M, 

" Sanctuary," Hackaye, 904 
"Sapho and Phaon," Mhc- 

kaye, 263, 985 
"Saratoga," Howard, 319 
Sarc^, Franelsqae, 163 
*• Sardoodledom,* 71 
Sardou, Victorien, 13 
" Saturday Reriew, Tlie," 

16, 64 
Savoy Theater, 90 
" Scarecrow, The," Mac- 

kaye, 963, 964^968 
"Schoolmistress, The," Pl- 

" Second Mrs. Tanqueray, 
The," Hnero, 4, 13, 14-19, 
19, 30, 85, 190, 194, 1*9, 

" Secret Service," Gillette, 
943, 94S 

" Servant in the House, 
The," Kennedy, 184 

" Seven Key* to Baldpate," 
Cohan, 371 

"Seven Short Plays," Greg- 
ory, 199, 903, 906 

" Shadowy Waters, The," 
Yeats, 198 

Shakespeare, SI, 100, 195- 
136, 191 

Siaw, Bernard, Biography, 
63-64; Critidam, 65-66 1 
Literature on, 69-70 j 
Plays, lUt, 66-68; Plays 
discussed: "Candida," 71- 
75, " Man and Superman,'* 
78-80 J "Getting Married," 

89; Referred to, vi, 16,40, 
42, 19, 90, 93, 117, 170, 
171, 907, 346 
Sieldon, Edward, BIoktb- 

Ehy, 969; Criticism, 369; 
iterature on, 270; Plays, 
list, 969-970; Play dis- 
cussed: " Romance,*' 371- 
975; Referred to, 78 

" Shenandoah," Howard, 919, 

Sheridan, 29, 135 

" Sherlock Hohnes," Gil- 
lette, 943 

" Shewing-up of Blanco Pos- 
net. The,* Shaw, 79, 85, 
96-89, 173 

" Shore Acres," Heme, 9S8, 

"Silver Box, The," Gals- 
worthy, 199, 139, 139 

"Silver King, The." Jones 
and Herman, 29, 30, 36-39, 


" Sovereign Love," Mnrray, 

Sowerby, Githa (Mrs. John 
Kendall), Biography, 154; 
Criticism, 154-155; Liter- 
ature on, lS5j Plays, list, 
155 ; Play discussed] 
" Rutherford and Son," 
156-159; Referred to, vfi, 


" Spreading the News," 

Gregory, 198, SOS 
" Squire, The," Pinero, 3 
St Charles Theater, New 

Orleans, 933 
SL James's Heater, Lon- 
don, 90 
Stage^irections, 73-74, 94, 

168-169, 170-173, 187, 307 
Stage Society, London, 64, 

90, 107 
"Stevenson, R. L., The 

Dramatist," Pinero, quot- 
ed, IT 
Strauss, Richard, 53 
" Strife," Galsworthy, B3, 

131-134, 134, 13T, 1S9, 

" Strongheart," De Mille, 

Struggle in the drama, 147, 

163, 310 
" Stubbornness of Gerald- 

ine. The," Fiteh, 3S3 
" Study of the Drama. A," 

Matthews, 13; quoted, 

118-119, 948 
"Such is Life," Wedekind, 


Sudennann, Hermann, 75, 

Sutro, Alfred, t 

" Sweet Lavender," Pinero, 
4, 10-13, 14, 18, 30, 93, ST, 
149, 905 

Swinburne, 99 

Synge, John Mllllngton, Bi- 
ography, 188{ Criticism, 
188-199; Literature on, 
189-1905 Plays, list, 189f 
Plays discussed : " Riders 
to the Sea," 191-193, 
" Playboy of the Western 
World, The," I94-197f 
Referred to, 199, 907, 913 

£X 813 

" Technique of the Drama," 

Freytag, 19 
" Technique of the Drama," 

Price, 12 
Tennyson, Alfred, 99 
"Theater of Ideas, The," 

Jones, SOT 
Theatrical talent. Pinero 

quoted on, 17 
Themes of the plays, 117, 


Thesis plays, 150 - 151, 

*' Third Degree, The," Klein, 

phy, 333-93*; Criadf 
934; Literature on, Kw- 
236{ Plays, list, 934-933; 
Play discussed! "Witch- 
ing Hour, "Hie," 937-242; 
Referred to. 16, 996, 346, 
341, 363 

"Three Daughters of M. 
Dupont, The," Brieux, 

" Thousand Years Ago, A," 
Mackaye, 963 

" Thunderbolt, The," Pi- 
nero, 4, 15, 16, 24, 91, 149. 

"Tinker's Wedding, The," 
Synge, 194 

" Too Much Johnson," Gil- 
lette, 343 

« Tradition," Middleton, 389, 

Tragedy, Herrfcn quoted 
on, 98 J difference between 
melodrama, and, 37-39, 
119-113, 140; Masefleld 
quoted on, 143, 193, 193; 
compared with c<nnedy, 

"Tragedy of Nan, Tbe," 


Moscfleld, 140, 141, 143- 

" Traveling Msn, The," 

Gremry, 199 
"Trutt, The," Fitch, 2S3- 

•"granny of Tears, The," 

Chambers, 118-120 
" Twelve-pound Look, The," 

Barrie, 73, 9fi, 108-109, 


"Ulysses," Phillips, 101 

Unify, 87 

Unities, Greek, 81, M, 194 

VaDderlllc Theater, London, 

Vedrenne, J. E^ 90 
"Vera, or Tlie NihiUsts," 

Wilde, 47, 48 
Villain, 39, 72 
" Voysey Inheritanee, The," 

Barker, 16, 73, SO, 93-96, 

154, 158 

Walden, Lord Howard de, 

Waller, Lewis, 90 

980; Referred to, v. 23 
War plays, 945 
" Warrena of Virpnia, 

The," De Mille, 288 
"Waste." Barker, 90, 95 
Webb, Sidney, 63 
"Well of the Sahits," Synge, 

Welsh National Drama 

Company, ITS, 175 
" What Every Wonum 

■ Knows," Barrie, 165 
What is a play? 84, 947 
"Wheel o' Fortune, The," 

Murray, 908-209 
" What Happened to 

Jones," Broadhurst, 289 
"Why Smith Left Home," 

Broadhurst, 288 
"Widowers' Houses," Shaw, 

64, 66, 75, 77, T8, 91 
"Wild Duck. The," Ibsen, 


49; Plays discussei 
lom*." 51-54. "Lady Win- 
dermere's Fan," 55^8, 
" Importance of Being 
Earnest, The," 59-62; Re- 
ferred to, 10, 30, 66, 


" Witching Hour. The," 

Thomas, 934, 237-942, 245, 

246. 969 
"Within the Law," Veiller, 

"Wolf of Gubbio, The," 

Pe^mdy, 283 
" Woman of No Impor- 
tance, A," Wilde, 47, 61, 

"Woman, The," De Mllle, 

146. 288 
Woodbridge, Elitabeth. See 

" Drama, Its Law and 

Technique, The" 
" Workhouse Ward, The," 

Gregory, 203 
Wyndham, Mr. and Mrs., 3 

Yeats, John B., 181 




Yeats, WiUIam Bntler, Bi- 
ography, ISl; Critidsm, 
lBl-183; Literature on, 

1S3-1B4; Plajrs, list, 182; 
Play discussed: "Coautess 
Calilecn, The," 185-1871 
Referred to, tI, I8S, 189, 
191, 313 
"Yellow Jacket, The," Ben- ZangwUl, Israel, 
pimo and Haielton, 17, 884 " " " " ■ 

You Never Can Tell," 

Shaw, 71, 78 
Younger Generatton, The," 

Houston, 147, 154, 1T5 
Young Mrs. Wlnthrop," 

Howard, 319, 9!e3-»7, 339, 

"Zua," Belasco, !86 

SEP 1 5 ins 




Its Contributions and Tendencies. By the Author of "George 
Bernard Shaw: His Life and Works," "European Drama- 
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The pioneer book in English in its field. While a nnmber 
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a supernatural climax. THE NOBLE LORD, a comedy 
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TRAITOR is discovered by a ruse of a British command- 
ing officer. A HOUSE OF CARDS, about a closed door, 
and what was on the other side— tragic PLAYING WITH 
FIRE, a comedy about the devotion of a boy and girl. THE 
FINGER OF GOD points the way to an ex-criminal by 
means of a girl he had never seen before. 

Lilr A. Loag'a RADISSON: Tba Voyagear 

A highly picturesque play in four acts and in verse. The 
central figures are Radisson the redoubtable voyageur who 
explored the Upper Mississippi, his brother-in-law Groseil- 
liers, Owera the daughter of an Indian chief, and various 
other Indians. The daring resource of the two white men in 
the face of imminent peril, the pathetic love of Owera, and 
above all, the vivid pictures of Indian life, the women grind- 
ing com, the council, dances, feasting and famine are notable 
features, and over it all is a somewhat unusual feeling for 
die moods of nature which closely follow those of the people 
involved. $1.00 net. 





With The Groove, The Black Tib, A Good Womah, Circles 
and The Unborn. One-act American Plays. (Just pub- 
lished.) $1.35 net. 
These pla;^s respectively concern (1) A divorced couple and 

their little girl ; (2) A girl's wish to escape village monotony ; 

(3) a wcmian's reputation and a man's public usefulness; 

(4) The quiet tragedy of a mulatto maid; (5) A mother^a 
sacrifice to keep a home for her dai^hter, and (6) How 
an unknown woman brought a message to a young couple. 


With The Failukes, The Gargoyle, In His House, Ma- 
donna and The Man Masterful. One-act American 
Plays. ?1.3S. 

KiCHAin Bditon, in The Btllman: "Emberi is a volume of sketches 
iDtcTcatins foi Ifaeir pBychological value" ' 

PiOF. WiLUAM Ltoh Phelps of ¥aU: "The plays are admirable; the 
converutions have the true Bt;le of human speech, and Bbow firstrole 
economy of words, every syllable advancing Ihe plot. The little iiamaa 
are full of cerebration, and I shall recommend them in my public 


With On Bail, Mothers, Waiting, Their Wife and The 
Cheat of Pitt. One-act American Plays. $1.35. 

Vnu York Timit: Ur. Middleton's plays furnish interesting read- 
;— TM.- ........ J z.. for yj gyjl ^^j workmanship 

eople in exceptional ci 


A three-act comedy of American Life, $1.00. 

Naiion: "VTithout a ibock or s thrill in it. but steadily Interen- 
d enlirely human. All the characters are depicled with fideli^f 
insistency; Ibe dialogue is good and the plot logicaL" 
:i SiONE Blackwill, in Womait'j Journalt "The spirit of the 
ielb Century is in his plays and also a spirit at jusdce anl gener- 




Bt Clayton Hamilton 


COMTEKTs: The New Art o£ Making Plays, The Rctorial 
SUge, The Drama of Illusion, The Modem Art of Stage 
Direction, A Plea for a New Type of Play, The Undranutic 
Drama, The Value of Stase Conventions, The Supernatural 
Drama, The Irish National Theatre, The Personality of the 
Playwright, Where to Begin a Play, Continuity of Structure, 
Rhythm and Tempo, The Plays of Yesteryear, A New De- 
fense of Melodrama, The Art of the Moving- Picture Play, 
The One-Act Play in America, Organizing an Audience, The 
Function of Dramatic Criticism, etc, etc. $1.50 net 

t/atiim: "Intonutioii, alertneu, eoolnea, unity and the cDnmikiid 
of a forceful and pointed Enclitb. ... A good book, in iqiitc of 

Prof. Archibald HndtriBi,, in Tkt Drama: . 'TJmfomilr exceUent in 
unifortn for high excellence and elevated itandarda. . . ." 

Atktnatum (Londen) : "Hii diKOuiona, tbough Ineoraplete, are 
mSdently prorocaliTe of thought to be well worth leaditig. 


The Thk»y of thi Theatsk.— What is a PUy?— The 
Psychology of Theatre Audiences. — The Actor and me Dra- 
matist, — Stage Conventions in Modem Times. — The Four 
Leading Types of Drama; Tragedy and Melodrama; Comedy 
and Farce. — The Modem Social Drama, etc., etc 

Other Pknciples or Dramatic CMwasM.— The PtibUc 
and the Dramatist. — Dramatic Art and the Theatre Business. 
— Dramatic Literature and Theatric Journalism. — The Inten- 
tion of Performance. — The Quality of New Endeavor. — 
Pleasant and Unpleasant Plays. — Themes in the Theatre. — 
The Function of Imagination, etc., etc 4th printing. $1.50 net. 

BeoimaH: "Preienti coherently a more aubBlaalial bod; of idea on 
the lubject than perhaps elaewhere accessible." 

BdiIok Trarucr^i: "At every moment of h!« discaisioo be haa ■ 
flnn graaii npon ever? phate of the lubject." 


By Gecwg Witkowski. Translated by Prof. L. E. Horning. 

Kleiat. Grillparier, Hebbel. Ludiris, Wildenliruch, Sudermann, Haupt- 
mann and minor dramatiiU receive attention. 12mo. Sl.OO. 

ffnv York Time, Rrvitw: "The tranilation of this brief, clear and 
loticil account was an extremely happy idea. Nothing at the aane time 
to comprehendTe and terse has appeared on the subject." 





Br CMutaBce lyAjtcr Hftcter 


The author is a recognized authority on the production 
of plays and pageants in the public schools, and combines en- 
diusiastic sympathy with sound, practical instructions. She 
tdls both how to inspire and care for the voung actor, how 
to make costumes, properties, scenery, where to find de- 
signs tor them, what music to use, etc, etc She prefaces it 
all with an interesting historical sketch of the plays-for-chil- 
dren movement, includes elaborate detailed analyses of per- 
formances of Browning's Pied Piper and Rosetti's Pageant 
of the Months, and concludes with numerous valuable an- 
alytical lists of plays for various grades and occasions. 
$1.20 net (Feb., 1914). 

Pageant of Patriotisu (Outdoor and Indoor Versions) :— 
•Princess Pocahontas, Pilgrim Interlude, Ferry Farm Epi- 
sode, •George Washinpon's Fortune, *Daniel Boone : Patriot, 
Benjamin Franklin Episode, Lincoln Episode, Final TableaiL 

Hawthokne Pageant (for Outdoor or Indoor Produc- 
tion) : — Chorus of Spirits of the Old Manse, Prologue by the 
Muse of Hawthorne, in Witchcraft Days, Dance Interlude, 
Merryraount, etc 

The portions marked with a star (*) are one-act plays 

suitable for separate performance. There are full directions 

for simple costumes, scenes, and staging. 12mo. $1.35 net. 


Short plays in verse for children of fourteen or younger : — 
"The House of the Heart (Morality Play)— "The Enchanted 
Garden" (Flower Play)— "A Little Pilgrim's Progress" (Mor- 
ality Play) — "A Pageant of Hours" (To be given Out of 
Doors) — "On Christmas Eve." "The Princess and the Pix- 
ies." "The Christmas Guest" (Miracle Play.), etc. Sl.lO net 

"An addidDn to cbild drama which hu been BDrel? needed.^'— Siut« 


And Otheb Folk Plays. "The Silver Thread" (Cornish) ; 
"The Forest Spring" (Italian); "The Foam Maiden*' (Celtic) ; 
"Troll Magic" (Norwegian) ; "The Three Wishes" (French) ; 
"A Brewing of Brains" (English); "Siegfried" (Gennait) ; 
"The Snow Witch" (Russian). $1.10 net 






Rostand, Hauptmanii, Sudkrmanm. 

PiNBRO, Shaw, Philufs, Maktxrukck 
Bf Pm.or. Edward Evbrctt Hali, Jr., of Union CoUeg«. 
With gilt top, net; by nwil, (i.fio. 
Since this work first appeared in 1905, Maeterlinck's Sister 
Beatrice, Tkb Blue Bird and Mary Magdalene, Rostand's 
Chantecler and Pioero's Mid-Ckahhbl and The Thundek- 
BuLT — among tbe notable plays by some of Dr. Hale's drama- 
tists — have been acted here. Discussions of them are added 
to this new edition, as are considerations of Bernard Shaw's 
And Stephen Phillips' latest plays. The authw's papers on 
Hanptmana and Sudermann, with slight additions, with his 
"Note on Standards of Criticism," "Our Idea of Tragedy," 
and an appendix of all the plays of each author, witb dates of 
their first performance or publication, complete the volume. 

Beaiwian: "He wrItMin a pleauat, tree-and-aair way. . . . He 
socapU tblnn cbielly at their face value, but he deacrl bes theld iobc- 
cur:italr and asreeably that he recalls vividly to mind the plays we 
have Man and the pleaaure we have found Id them." 

Ntm Ysrh Butning Pest : "Itlinot often nowaday) thatathestrlcal 
bjok cau be met with ao free from ni ah and mere eulogy, or lo weighted 
by common unae . . . an excellent cbronoloffical appendix and fult 
Index . . . aDcommatily nuful tor tefereuce.^ 

Dial: " Noteworthy example of literary ciiticiim [n on* of tbe most 
InCereetiflg of literary Aeldl. . . . Provldsa a varied menu of the 
mou iQtereeting character. . . . Prof. Hal* eilabliihei confidential 
relation! with the reader from the lUrt. . . . Verydeeniteoplnloni, 
clearly reasoned and amply fortl&ed by example. . . . Well worth 
reading a cecond time." 
NaoYark Triiuiu; "Both Initructlve and enterUialng." 

BreeUyn EagUi "A dramatic critic who I* not luat 'buitloK' him- 
self withT-iia^o intelloctualitiea, but who i« a readable dramatic critic. 
. . . Ur. Hale is a modest and seuBlble, as well oa an acute and sound 
erllic. . . . Most people will be surprlied and dellshted with Ur. 
Bale's simplicity, perspicuity and Ingennousness." 

TktTktatri! " A pleaslnK ItKhtness ot touch. . . . Very rend-